First Bite
by Lingering Lilies
Summary: "Brittany nodded and scooted halfway out of the booth before looking up at Santana with hesitant but daring eyes. "Would you be my first bite?" she asked." Brittana in the True Blood 'verse.
1. Rare Blood

A/N: This is a True Blood crossover, but you don't have to watch the show to understand it. For those interested, there's a brief primer on my Tumblr. Unbeta'd. Enjoy!

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**First Bite**

Santana wasn't usually one for the bar scene. She found the vampires who frequented such establishments to be the worst kind of vampire: young, power-hungry, and itching for a fight. But one night her oldest friend - if you could call her that - dragged her to Fangtasia and she decided she would try to have a good time for Quinn's sake. She didn't have many other options.

She had only been there ten minutes when Quinn ditched her and she heard a commotion in the corner. She looked over and saw a human girl - she couldn't have been more than twenty - caught between two male vampires. A mixture of intrigue and absolute terror was blended in the girl's eyes as she looked back and forth, increasingly uneasy with the way they were grasping her elbows, pulling like a rag doll.

Poor thing. Santana couldn't even see any bite marks on her. Most likely she was here on a dare or some sick kind of sorority pledging ritual where the recruits were sent to vampire bars and told not to come back without fang marks. Kids these days.

Santana tried to ignore the escalating conversation. She wasn't about to let two baby vamps ruin her night. She prided herself on her self-control, and was disgusted by vampires who couldn't restrain themselves just because a particular human looked and smelled nice.

And this girl did look and smell nice. More than nice, actually, but something was off. She had worn what must have been someone else's shirt, because she didn't look quite confident enough to sport the plunging neckline. The necklace the draped over and between her breasts was a nice touch. Her breasts were especially alluring. Round and soft and pale. The girl's corn silk blonde hair flowed just past her nipple line, shining in the dim light of the bar.

When she could no longer enjoy her glass of synthetic blood without hearing every word the male vampires were saying, Santana decided she'd had enough of their idiotic predatory argument. She wasn't going to let two baby vampires ruin this stupid girl's life. Not that she cared for humans much, other than having fun with them in the past and feeding from her regular rotation. When she heard one of the men say, "We can both play with her, huh? We'll take turns. She's looking for thrills," followed by a demonic laugh, she stalked over to the corner and released her teeth, glaring at the men before her.

"You're doing a great job of making sure she talks crap about us to her whole sorority," Santana sneered.

The girl looked up at Santana with a combination of fear and relief. Luckily she didn't know that Santana had no seniority over these idiot vamps. But the men released her elbows.

Santana stayed cool. "Girl, who sent you here?"

The girl swallowed. "No one. I've been here before."

"No one likes a liar."

The girl hung her head. "My friends sent me."

"I bet they gave you that shirt, too," Santana cooed, tilting her head as she admired the girl's cleavage.

The girl kept her gaze downcast and nodded.

"What did they set you up to, sweetheart?" Santana mocked. "You come here to get your first bite?"

The girl's eyes scanned the room, lingering on the door.

"Answer me," Santana commanded.

"Yes," the girl mumbled.

"And now you're having second thoughts," Santana finished.

"Yes."

Santana straightened up. "You heard her, boys. Back off."

The men slunk away, leaving the girl alone in the booth.

"What's your name, girl?"

"Brittany."

"Go home, Brittany. Vampires can't bother you there, but if you hang around here, you can be certain they will."

Brittany nodded and scooted halfway out of the booth before looking up at Santana with hesitant but daring eyes. "Would _you_ be my first bite?" she asked, her voice meek.

"Excuse me?" Santana asked, stunned.

"Would you be my first bite," Brittany repeated. "I may have come here on a dare, but I'm curious," she shrugged. "Lots of girls at Tri Delta like it."

Santana sighed. She had been right, this girl was a sorority recruit. "If your so-called sisters set you up to this, you might want to reconsider pledging," Santana said. "Fangbanging is nothing to be proud of. Now leave before those idiots decide they can't handle their shit."

Brittany sighed and slid out of the booth, heading for the door with her shoulders drawn into herself. When she reached the threshold, she paused and looked back at Santana before slinking out into the night.

After finishing her synthetic blood, which was unsatisfying but palatable, Santana went outside for a cigarette. Now that she didn't have to worry about lung cancer or anything, she made it a habit. Her parents had hated it when she was a teen, but after being turned in college, she hadn't thought twice about it.

No sooner had she held the flame to the end of her cigarette, Brittany slid up beside her. "Can I borrow your light?" she asked.

Santana sighed. This girl had to be the stupidest human she'd met in a long time. Without making eye contact, she tossed her lighter in Brittany's direction.

"Thanks," she heard.

Santana barely grunted a _welcome_ as she took her first drag off her cigarette, blowing the smoke out to curl in the cold night air.

"Do you have a favorite kind?" the girl asked.

"This stuff's fine," Santana said, trying to convey how disinterested she was in pursuing anything.

"I mean blood type. I've heard the synthetic stuff isn't as good as the real thing."

Santana looked at the girl and was surprised to find a playful smile on her face. "What's it to you? I'm not interested."

The girl shrugged. "Maybe the fact that I'm AB negative will change your mind."

Santana froze. That did complicate things. AB negative was her favorite type, and as luck would have it, the rarest blood type in the world. In her less refined days, she had glamoured dozens of humans into letting her drink from them. But she shook the memory off. Ever since vampires had come out of the coffin, she'd been keeping a low profile. She hated that the decision had been made for her, but had grown accustomed to her adjusted lifestyle, frequenting a few accommodating humans a week, paying them for their blood, and never getting into anything freaky or complicated.

But biting a vamp virgin would bring on complications she wasn't sure she wanted.

"You like AB negative, don't you?" Brittany asked, her smile growing smug.

"Maybe," Santana said, trying to stay cool. "But I don't like fangbangers and I don't do first bites."

"How can I be a fangbanger if I've never been bitten?" Brittany challenged.

Santana pursed her lips, turning her torso towards Brittany. If Brittany was going to challenge and tempt her like this, she needed to know what she was getting into and why. "Why do you want to get bitten? Some sorority thing? Because that is the stupidest reason I've ever heard. If they asked you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?"

The girl's smile dulled. She took a breath. "I don't need a sorority to get me to do something I've always been curious about."

"Why are you curious?"

"Everyone I've talked to says it feels really good."

"Find some coed to roleplay with and don't mess with vamps."

"You think I haven't done that already?" Brittany said, her expression growing challenging. "Human teeth can only do so much."

That surprised Santana.

"What do you have against humans anyway?" Brittany asked. "If I were a vampire, would you be so standoffish?"

Santana paused, trying not to flare at this stupid and persistent girl. She had to admit Brittany was gorgeous, and if she were a vampire, she'd have been the first person Santana talked to in the bar. But it didn't matter. "You're _not_ a vampire."

Brittany shrugged. "I thought the fact that I'm AB negative would make up for my pulse."

Santana paused. She didn't want to admit that it did. She turned towards Brittany "You really want to do this?" she asked, licking her lips as her mouth watered at the thought of tasting rare blood after so long.

"Would I have waited outside for so long if I didn't?"

Santana looked the girl up and down, her gaze lingering on the soft, pink pulse on the side if her neck. It looked divine. As she thought about undressing and having her way with Brittany, she felt her fangs prick out as she fought to keep from growling.

"You have five seconds to get in your car and leave before I take you up on your offer."

Brittany swallowed and Santana saw her pulse quicken in the spot on her neck. Brittany locked eyes with Santana and held her gaze.

One.

Two.

Santana's arousal mounted with each flicker of Brittany's pulse.

Three.

Santana swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth.

Four.

Brittany bit her lip.

Five.

If Brittany was baiting her, Santana would give her what she wanted and then some.

"Time's up," Santana growled, grabbing Brittany by the elbow and yanking her from where they stood outside the bar.

Keeping her fangs tucked in, Santana paid for a hotel room in cash and tugged Brittany up the stairs. She slid the card in the door and pulled Brittany in. She tried to think of things to say to warn Brittany, but settled for "Anything I should know?"

Brittany shook her head.

Santana tore Brittany's shirt off her and threw her on the bed so hard, she bounced. Brittany's eyes flew open wide, but to Santana's surprise, she giggled. Santana didn't know if she was angered or turned on by that giggle, but whatever she felt, it made her fangs poke back out. She leapt on top of Brittany, bending low and running her nose up the side of Brittany's neck, smelling and letting her mouth water. Brittany smelled _good_.

"You ready for your first bite, sweetheart?" she cooed, her smirk ringing through her words.

"Yeah," Brittany gasped, her hands tensing on Santana's back. "Do it."

Santana licked a stripe up Brittany's neck before plunging her fangs into Brittany's warm, soft skin, piercing the flesh as Brittany spasmed beneath her.

"_Oh!_" Brittany cried out.

Santana let the hot, metallic liquid seep into her mouth for a second before she began to suck, feeling Brittany wriggle beneath her, overwhelmed. The taste was exquisite. It was everything good she could remember about food and wine and sex from her human days, and then some.

Santana sucked harder as she jammed her hand into Brittany's skirt, finding her panties soaked on contact. She had forgotten how satisfying it was to hardly have to work to turn someone on. The past few years of having sex with only vampires had dulled that memory. This was refreshing.

As Brittany's blood seeped down her throat, hot and satisfying, Brittany groaned and pressed her hands into Santana's back harder. "Oh GOD!" she moaned. Brittany kept writhing until Santana decided to back off. She didn't want to feed too quickly and weaken the girl before she could have more fun with her. She slurped up the blood that dripped from the fang marks and licked the wound, watching as a few drops slid down Brittany's neck onto the pillow.

"There you go," Santana hummed. "Your first bite."

"So good!" Brittany panted, rocking into Santana's hand. "Oh, wow, so good!" She was smiling as her head rolled to the side on the pillow. "Was it good for you?"

Santana had never been asked that before. The humans she had slept with always assumed it was good for her because she was feeding. "Uh huh," she grunted.

"Are you done?" Brittany asked.

Santana let out a low chuckle. "Not even close, sweetheart."


	2. Second Bite

**A/N: Unbeta'd. ****I don't know how to put a trigger warning for "vampire sex is intense," so proceed with that in mind. All consensual. Obviously there is bloodplay in this story.**

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Brittany shivered, grinning. "What does it taste like?" she asked.

Santana licked the remaining blood off her lips and bent her head to lick Brittany's neck again, savoring the rare blood there.

"It takes like the best food and wine and sex you've ever had, all rolled into one."

Brittany's grin widened. "Do you think it'd taste good to me?"

"You've never tasted your own blood?" Santana frowned. "Not even when you got a papercut or something?"

"I guess I have," Brittany mused. "But it just tasted like salty metal."

"Blood tastes different to vampires," Santana pointed out, raising her eyebrow in a wicked smirk.

"So what's next?" Brittany asked, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"It would be nice actually fuck, for one."

Brittany wriggled, rocking into Santana's hand that was stilled against her sex. "Do you want me to do anything to you?" she offered. "'Cause I want to. You're really sexy. Like, the sexiest vampire I've ever seen," she said, rolling her eyes to communicate how ridiculously hot Santana was.

Santana smirked. "You've got that right," she muttered, pulling her hand out of Brittany's skirt.

"Can I eat you out?" Brittany asked in an excited whisper.

"If you like."

Santana froze for a second, realizing something. In the vampire world, no one cared who you slept with, but that was not the case in the human world "You _have_ gone down on a human girl, right?"

Brittany nodded eagerly. "I like it. It tastes like... mmm... _sex_," she said, as if she had come up with a creative description.

Santana rolled her eyes. Obviously, eating a girl out would taste like sex. "Well, then," she said, rolling onto her back. "Have at it."

Brittany's eyes widened in delight as she scrambled up from her place on the pillows. "What do you like?" she asked. "Hard, soft, fingers, no fingers?"

"Whatever," Santana said. "I doubt you'll be able to do what a vampire could do."

"Oh... okay." Brittany paused, looking disappointed as she realized she couldn't move as quickly or with as much strength as a vampire.

Santana hitched up her mini-dress so Brittany could pull down her panties. As she did, Brittany's smile returned. Brittay got on her knees, her smile growing wicked as she parted Santana's legs and bent down to smell and nuzzle Santana's sex. She licked the inside of Santana's thigh. Her tongue was so warm and soft, Santana tipped her head back in pleasure. She had forgotten about the warmth of a human mouth. Maybe she had underestimated how good this would feel after a few years.

Brittany let out a contented sigh. "Your skin tastes like magic," she said. "Have you been drinking fairy blood?" she asked.

Santana shook her head. "Not unless you have something to tell me," she mumbled, closing her eyes. "Stop talking and use your mouth for something else, Brittany."

Brittany giggled and licked the other side of Santana's inner thigh, letting out another sigh. She kissed the skin she'd licked, eyes closing in pleasure. She licked higher, right to the crease of Santana's hip. After nuzzling into Santana with her nose, she sank her mouth onto her, running her tongue in a broad stripe up the center.

Brittany's mouth was so hot and wet, Santana had to hold back a groan. It felt better than any other human mouth - and possibly vampire - she'd ever had on her. Brittany seemed to get as much pleasure in pleasing Santana as Santana felt receiving.

Brittany drew her tongue slowly up Santana's sex again, languishing attention at the top where Santana's nerves were most sensitive. She lingered there and hummed something that sounded like, "Mm-hm, mm-hmm..." into Santana's folds.

Brittany tightened her grip on Santana's thighs and pushed herself forward, driving her tongue deeper as she circled Santana's opening. She slid it as far in as she could, tasting the juices that seeped out. She seemed to be getting just as flustered and aroused as Santana was. She hummed "mm, mm, mmm..." into Santana, keeping her eyes closed as her brow creased. She sped up the motion of her tongue until she could no longer keep up with her own pace, at which point she moved her mouth up to Santana's clit and slid two fingers inside. The noise she let out was the one Santana thought she herself made, a groan of surrender and desperation.

Brittany's mouth started feeling more frantic against Santana as Brittany's fingers fluttered inside her. Although Santana herself was starting to pant, Brittany was having to take frequent breaks to gasp for air. Brittany was smiling into her, humming and groaning. "So good," Brittany murmured. "Tastes so good..." Santana looked down and saw Brittany was rocking against the bed as she slurped and sucked, becoming frenzied, as if drunk off Santana's juices.

"Use my leg," Santana hummed, tilting her foot towards Brittany.

Brittany hummed louder, giddy at the suggestion. She mounted Santana's leg as best she could without stopping her efforts to wind Santana higher. Santana started canting up into her mouth as Brittany rocked against her leg, feeling a release building. When Santana reached a frustrating plateau, she realized she needed more of Brittany's blood if she was going to come.

She yanked Brittany up and flung her on her back, mounting her as she hissed, "I need to drink from you again."

Brittany moaned and slid one knee on either side of Santana. "Drink here," she said, running her hands up her thighs. "Your teeth feel so good and I need to come so bad..."

Santana tore off her skirt and yanked her panties off, flinging them onto the floor as she took in the sight of Brittany naked and moaning below her, already delirious, though Santana wasn't touching her.

"Please," Brittany begged. "Please, please touch me. Please, I need to come."

Santana looked at the girl's glistening sex, pink and ripe with her hot, delicious blood. She lowered her head between Brittany's legs, but didn't touch her.

"Oh god... oh god," Brittany whimpered.

Santana let her shiver for a few seconds before she licked the inside of Brittany's thigh. She teased Brittany's opening with two fingers, feeling Brittany shake in anticipation, her pleading whimpers becoming undecipherable. She could smell Brittany's heavenly blood coursing through her, mixed with her arousal. The scent alone made her feel drunk. When she couldn't restrain herself any longer, Santana plunged two fingers inside Brittany at the same time she bit into Brittany's inner thigh, taking the ripe flesh into her mouth and sucking on the liquid that seeped from it.

Brittany shrieked in surprise and delight as Santana sucked feverishly, high on the feeling of hot blood pouring down her throat as Brittany writhed. Brittany's hands flew up into her hair and clutched at it, her torso twisting as she screamed in pleasure. Santana closed her eyes and feasted as her fingers pulsed into Brittany with vampire speed, bringing her to three successive orgasms, each louder than the last. As Brittany reached her third orgasm and blood poured into Santana's mouth faster, Santana felt her own release overtake her, coursing through her muscles as she came. She sucked Brittany's blood to prolong the sensation until she finally felt sated.

When she knew she couldn't feed any longer without draining Brittany, she reluctantly slurped up the blood seeping down Brittany's thigh and withdrew her fingers. She hummed in satisfaction and rested her head against Brittany's leg as the afterglow spread through her.

After Santana collected herself and licked up the last drops from Brittany's thigh, she realized Brittany wasn't moving. She grew worried. Humans weren't her favorite creatures in the world, but she never wished them harm. Certainly not this sweet, misguided girl who probably got more than she bargained for.

"Brittany?" Santana asked.

Brittany didn't respond.

Horrified that she might have overfed, Santana slid up to hover over Brittany's limp body. The last thing she wanted to do was kill a human and give vampires a worse reputation. The second to last thing she wanted to do was become a maker.

She was relieved to find that Brittany was breathing, albeit shallowly. She was unconscious on the pillows, exhausted and almost drained.

"Hey..." Santana whispered, shaking Brittany's shoulder. "Can you hear me?"

"Mmm... " Brittany hummed, keeping her eyes closed.

"Did I hurt you?" Santana asked before she realized it was a silly question. Of course she'd hurt Brittany. Vampires usually hurt the humans they slept with. But seeing the fragile girl beneath her, something panged in her chest and she felt protective.

"So good... " Brittany whispered, lips barely moving. Brittany's breathing grew slower. "D'you need...?" Brittany trailed off.

"No, I came," Santana said. "Don't worry."

With her eyes still closed, Brittany gave her a relieved hint of a grin that faded quickly. Her breathing grew even slower and her head tilted to the side.

"Brittany?" Santana asked, frowning down at the girl beneath her.

Brittany hummed a half-conscious response.

"Are you okay?" Santana asked.

"Mmm..."

Santana wasn't convinced. Usually humans were tired after feeding and sex, but not bordering on unconscious. Looking at the pale, withering body beneath her, she felt the urge to help her. She felt awful that she'd taken so much out of this poor girl who just wanted to try something new. So she did something she'd never done before; without a second thought to the bond she was about to create, she pricked her teeth out and bit her wrist hard enough that blood started to drip.

"Brittany, open your mouth," she commanded

"M'sleepy..."

"I know, but you need to drink this first. You'll heal faster."

Brittany's eyes fluttered open long enough to see Santana's bleeding wrist in front of her. Eyes closing again, she sighed and opened her mouth.

Santana held her wrist to Brittany's lips and let her suck for a few seconds. It felt as soothing to Santana as she imagined it felt for Brittany. She was relieved there was something she could do to help Brittany return to her cheerful, mischievous self. When she pulled her wrist away after a moment, Brittany's tongue ran over her lips before she let out a contented sigh. "Thanks..."

"Uh huh," Santana hummed.

Santana watched as color seeped back into Brittany's face and her breathing deepened and steadied. She stroked Brittany's cheek with her fingers, watching the pink spread through her skin. She watched protectively as Brittany fell fast asleep.

And though Santana didn't know it, she was falling too.


	3. Bait

**A/N: I am falling prey to my own inability to be concise, as usual. I hope you enjoy! This genre is a refreshing change from my usual domestic drama. I haven't enjoyed writing this much since mid-TtLW. Unbeta'd.**

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As Brittany sank deeper into sleep, Santana rubbed a drop of her own blood over the bite marks on Brittany's neck. She watched them seal up like a reverse burn, the deep purple of the bruise vanishing into pristine, pale skin. Then she gave the same treatment to Brittany's inner thigh, watching the bruised, raw flesh disappear, healthy and pink once more. Then she returned to watching Brittany breathe. She remembered breathing. That slow, steady rhythm was soothing to watch. The rise and fall of Brittany's chest lulled her into a dream-like state.

After Brittany had been asleep for at least half an hour, Santana heard a noise in the hallway. Jerked back into a reality where humans and vampires were at war, she realized she needed to leave. Vampires had no business watching humans sleep, and she didn't want to be caught red-lipped. So she kissed Brittany's cheek and left at lightning speed.

The farther away she got, the more relieved she felt. After the relief came annoyance. How had Brittany managed to manipulate her like that? She had told Brittany repeatedly she wasn't interested, and Brittany didn't listen. But Santana knew it was her own fault for caving. She should have stuck to her rule about first bites. As she arrived home, she sank back into her indifference towards humans, telling herself she was content to pay her regulars for their blood. Money made things clean, after all. It made eating a simple business transaction.

The following weekend, Quinn commanded Santana to come with her to Fangtasia again. Santana despised Fangtasia even more since last weekend, but she couldn't disobey Quinn. Luckily the baby vamps from last week weren't there, but no sooner had Quinn disappeared again, Brittany popped up beside Santana's booth. She was wearing a sheer, yellow scarf tied around her neck in a knot, a grey blouse, and a pencil skirt that matched her scarf.

"I was hoping I'd find you here again," she chirped. "Although I should be mad at you for disappearing on me like that. That was rude, you know."

Santana tried to scowl, but it was hard to look at Brittany's face and make any kind of sour expression. So she said, "What did you expect, breakfast in bed?"

"For you, maybe," Brittany said with a sly shrug. "I was just happy to find someone who could keep up with me."

Santana scoffed. "A vampire, keep up with _you_?"

"Gotcha!" Brittany giggled. "No, but I'm serious. You left without even telling me your name. Which, now that I think about it, makes me feel kind of trashy. I've never slept with someone without knowing their name."

"Consider me a once-in-lifetime experience then," Santana quipped.

"Oh, you are," Brittany said, certain. "Definitely once in a lifetime."

There was silence as Santana tried to look everywhere but at Brittany, who wasn't taking the hint.

"Sooo... will you tell me your name?" Brittany asked, hopeful.

"That would imply I intend for you to use it, which I don't."

"You want me to scream out, 'oh, sexy lady vampire' instead?" Brittany giggled.

"I want you to scream nothing. It's not going to happen again," Santana said cooly, determined. "I told you I don't like fangbangers."

Brittany pursed her lips and studied Santana's face, looking for an in. "I'm not a fangbanger. I just like one set of fangs so far."

Santana hummed in disinterest. "Same difference."

"No, it's not," Brittany argued. "That's like saying all rectangles are squares."

Santana said nothing, looking around for Quinn in hopes she would be released from her companionship duties so she could leave.

"Do you like my scarf?" Brittany asked, toying with the knot at the side.

Santana shivered, remembering how soft and delicious the skin it covered was. "It's okay," she said in feigned disinterest.

"From what I understand, most fangbangers wear their bites out proudly in bars like this so everyone knows what they're looking for. But I don't have scars, and I'm not like them. I can be discreet."

"Walking into a vamp bar and harassing someone who's not interested is _not_ discreet," Santana hissed.

"The first time I harassed you, it worked pretty well," Brittany said with a cocky shrug.

"I'm not giving you your second bite!" Santana snapped.

"You already gave me my second bite," Brittany said with an impish smile.

Santana tried not to flare with arousal and anger at the reminder of how delicious the blood from Brittany's inner thigh had been. "The last thing I want is a needy human following me around. You have some nerve, coming here, especially after what happened last time with those idiots."

But Brittany didn't know when to stop pushing. "Last time I came here, a sexy vampire lady rescued me and took me to a hotel and gave me the best fuck of my life. So excuse me if I'm looking to repeat the experience. But I'm pretty sure you'd do the same if you were me."

"I'm not you."

"That's a shame, because I like being me, and I don't think you like being you."

Santana was about to throw the girl out of the bar, but when she saw the soft confidence and sincerity in Brittany's eyes, something stopped her. She wasn't used to being around people who weren't wallowing in self-loathing or too busy feeding their vices to notice how miserable they were.

Santana wasn't particularly fond of her life, especially since she'd been forced out of the coffin. Actually, she hadn't been fond of her life ever since that day she'd been jogging on the wrong trail at dusk.

But Brittany, despite being mortal, looked happy. Her butter-yellow scarf and skirt matched her disposition. Santana wanted to know her secret, even if it was beneath her to be curious about humans.

"How about this?" Brittany said, lowering her voice and sliding closer. "How about I buy you an AB negative, and you tell me if it's comparable to mine," she said, playing with the knot in her scarf. "If it is, I'll leave. If it's not, then you have to tell me your name."

Santana scoffed. That was a losing bet in many ways. Obviously real blood was better than synthetic, no matter the flavor. But she didn't say no. She didn't turn down free drinks unless she had a reason to.

Taking her silence as an acceptance, Brittany smiled and got up, walking over to the bar and leaning towards the bartender. Santana couldn't help but notice how good her ass looked in that skirt, bent slightly over the bar, smiling as she looked back at Santana, pointing so the bartender could see who the drink was for. Santana felt her mouth water and her fangs prick out, and she cursed herself for it. She knew Brittany was being manipulative, and she was falling for it. She wasn't going to let Brittany win.

"I know what you're doing," Santana said when Brittany placed the bottle of synthetic blood in front of her.

"What am I doing?" Brittany said, her face conveying she had no idea.

"You're trying to secure a regular source of V. Well, it ain't happening. This is why I don't like fangbangers."

Brittany gave an indifferent shrug. "Keep your blood. I don't need it."

Santana scowled. "You could have died without it."

"Well thanks for keeping me alive, but I'm not using your for your blood."

"What are you using me for?"

"Who said I was using you?"

"My instincts."

"Tell your instincts to calm down and enjoy something for once," Brittany said, nudging the bottle closer to Santana. "Not everything has to be political."

Santana took a drink, the mildly pleasing taste of the synthetic blood sliding down her throat. It calmed her. But she still wanted Brittany to stop trying to trick her. She could feel Brittany's gaze boring into her from where she sat in the booth.

"You are _really_ getting on my nerves," Santana grumbled.

"Why don't you let me get on something else, then," Brittany said, leaning closer. "You know I taste good. I'm ready and willing and as far as I can tell, you have no other takers in this bar."

Santana's scowl deepened, annoyed that Brittany was calling attention to her unpopularity. "I'm not sure I want to."

Brittany pursed her lips. "Sure seemed like you wanted to when I went to get your drink." She eyed the Santana's lips knowingly.

Santana fumed. "Careful, human," she hissed. "There's no law guaranteeing your safety here."

"Except the law saying feeding has to happen out of the public eye."

"You know how fast I can get you out of the public eye," Santana said, still hissing.

"So get me out of the public eye and feast yourself," Brittany said, fingering the scarf against her neck again. "I promise you won't regret it." She paused a moment, pulling the scarf down an inch and winking. "It'll be even better than last time."

Santana watched as Brittany's eyes twinkled and she toyed with her scarf. Santana had been glamoured once before she was turned, and this felt an awful lot like that. It was not a good feeling. She felt herself burning with anger.

"Fuck off," Santana snapped, getting out of the booth to leave. She looked around frantically for Quinn, wanting permission to leave now more than ever.

Brittany followed and Santana snarled at her stupid persistence. Not seeing Quinn anywhere, she decided that was permission enough to leave. Brittany touched Santana's wrist, right where her bite had been the weekend before. She leaned into Santana's ear and whispered, "You can come to my house if you want."

Santana shivered at her touch. There was something magnetic to it, something that made her feel slower and weaker, as though chained by silver.

"Take it back," Santana said, her voice faltering.

Brittany's smile grew wicked and she shook her head. "Come back to my house," she echoed.

Santana swallowed, trying not to remember the divine taste of Brittany's blood pouring down her throat as she fucked Brittany into oblivion. As she fought to keep her fangs concealed, another pair of lips neared her other ear. "It's not polite to turn down such a gracious invitation," Quinn whispered. "Go with her, Santana."

Now Santana was furious. She couldn't disobey Quinn, no matter how much she disliked her. She snarled before turning to Brittany.

"Fine! But don't think this means I want to."

"I don't think you want to," Quinn answered in Brittany's place. "I _know_ you want to."

Santana grabbed Brittany's wrist, yanking her towards the door. "Take me to your stupid house."


	4. Warmth

"I can drive if you want," Brittany offered, bouncing on her heels.

Santana huffed, following Brittany to her car. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with."

"Are you this romantic with all your meals?" Brittany asked, clicking the locks open.

"Shut up and take me wherever you're taking me," Santana muttered, putting on her seatbelt and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Okay," Brittany smiled. "We'll go to my parents' house, since I don't think dorms are your style."

Santana sneered at the reminder of how young Brittany was.

"My parents' house is nice," Brittany said, suddenly calm and quiet as she pulled out onto the road. "You'll like it. My friends always say it looks like a vampire house."

"Interesting," Santana said, her tone indicating she meant anything but. She preferred her modern home of glass and steel and wood to anything garish and overstated.

Brittany drove them to her house. The whole time Santana was overwhelmed by her smell. Not just her blood, but her skin and hair and sex. The combination of scents in such close quarters was intoxicating, and Santana wasn't sure she trusted herself not to suck Brittany dry the moment the car stopped. Santana was relieved when Brittany chirped, "Here we are!" and drove through the hedge-flanked gate. The car crept up a gravel driveway that encircled a lawn with a fountain.

"Is your dad a surgeon or something?" Santana asked, taking in the lush surroundings.

"No," Brittany giggled. "But my mom is."

Brittany parked in a carport and led Santana through the garage. In the dark, Santana spotted a Rolls Royce, its silver angel figurehead gleaming, mocking her.

Brittany must have noticed Santana's attention had snagged. "That was a gift to my dad," she said. She studied Santana's face for a minute. "You like it, don't you?"

Santana tried to shrug in indifference. More than anything, she was curious. She'd never seen such a nice car up close. But as her eyes roamed the contours of the car, her stomach and throat tightened, reminding her how hungry she was.

"We can fuck inside, if you want," Brittany said with a devilish grin.

If Santana had had a pulse, it would have started racing at Brittany's suggestion. It was as if she knew Santana was using every once of self-control not to pounce on her, and was deliberately baiting her. But having sex in Brittany's father's car seemed dangerous in a way that her vampire sensibilities knew better than to ignore. She didn't want to piss off someone powerful, even if they were human.

"Not all vampires have a thing for cars, you know," Santana said through her teeth, swallowing the saliva pooling in her mouth. She tried to sound offended, but it didn't work.

"Okay." Brittany shrugged with an amused grin, continuing into the house. "There are plenty of other places we can fuck."

Brittany's casual mockery angered Santana. Quick as a flash, she caught up to her. "Who said anything about fucking?" she growled, grabbing Brittany by the wrist and holding her so tight Santana's nails made marks on her skin. "Quinn ordered me to come here, but she didn't say I had to fuck you."

Brittany tried to move out of Santana's grasp, but she wasn't strong enough. So instead, she reached up with her free hand and started to untie her scarf, as if she weren't in death's clutches.

"Okay," she mused. "Maybe I'll just get myself off while you feed. Would that be okay?"

Santana wanted to scream at her. Why didn't Brittany react to anything the way she was supposed to? Why wasn't Brittany afraid of her? Santana flushed angry crimson from head to foot and her fangs released. "You'll do what I tell you to," she hissed.

"Okay." Brittany turned out of Santana's grasp towards the kitchen counter. She hoisted herself up and perched on the ledge, legs crossed. "Is this okay?" she asked as she continued untying her scarf.

Santana said nothing, swallowing as Brittany dropped the scarf on the ground, never taking her eyes off Santana. Brittany was the boldest, most confident, most foolish human Santana had ever met.

After Brittany's scarf fluttered to the ground, Brittany slowly uncrossed her legs. Her smile drifting to one side in a smirk, she hiked up her skirt and parted her legs.

Fuck.

Brittany wasn't wearing any panties. And from the looks of it, teasing a vampire had gotten her worked up. No wonder Santana had been able to smell her so intensely the whole night.

Santana launched forward, jolting Brittany back on the counter. She had had enough of Brittany's game. "This will teach you to tease a vampire," she snarled before biting into the flesh on Brittany's inner thigh. Brittany shrieked in pain and delight, falling back onto the marble as her legs shifted and wrapped around Santana's neck. She squirmed and reeled and Santana had to grip her hips to keep her in place against Santana's open, hungry mouth.

The blood that gushed from Brittany's thigh was more heavenly than Santana remembered. It had a faint floral hint to it, as though Brittany had absorbed the blooms she saw and transferred them to her blood. It was sweet and fresh and alive. It was the most quenching meal Santana had ever had.

Brittany was enjoying herself thoroughly, talking to Santana in fragments, _drink me, yes, oh fuck, feels good_. Santana saw her hand drift between her legs and start rubbing circles. Although she had previously been angry enough to deny Brittany any pleasure, now that Brittany's delicious blood was pooling in her stomach, she had calmed. She rather enjoyed watching Brittany pleasure herself as she slurped up the blood that flowed from her leg, pairing with her arousal as though they were never to be separated. Watching Brittany smear her own wetness into herself made Santana hungrier, and at the same time calmer. Something inside her released she surrendered to the joy Brittany was feeling. She was in the moment, no longer caught up in the rules or hierarchy or the fact that Brittany was human and she was vampire. They were both giving and receiving, and the mechanics didn't matter. It felt as natural as drinking water had once felt. And because she wanted to enhance the experience, she stilled Brittany's hand and started rubbing circles herself, her strong, quick hands vaulting Brittany higher.

Brittany grew louder and her blood gushed quicker, until Santana almost couldn't drink it as fast as it flowed. Finally Brittany arched and cried out louder than before, legs trapping Santana's head as she screamed Santana's name. Santana licked up what blood she could and tried to steady Brittany, knowing Brittany could exhaust herself in ecstasy. She wasn't sure Brittany could handle vampire sex for any extended amount of time. But when Brittany came down, she was grinning from ear to ear, eyes closed as a faint flush spread throughout her body.

"So good..." she murmured, head rolling to the side as her chest heaved. "I'm so glad you came home with me, Santana..."

It didn't escape Santana that Brittany used her name. For a second, she wondered how Brittany had known, but then she remembered Quinn had used it intentionally. She should have been angry with both of them, but she wasn't. Her name sounded peaceful on Brittany's lips. Beautiful and almost alive.

There was something about Brittany that gentled Santana. The humans she had slept with previously had been frantic and desperate while they fucked. But Brittany was open and smiling. To her, sex felt as natural as breathing had once felt to Santana. And because she didn't want anything to feel uncomfortable to Brittany, she picked her up and carried her upstairs into the room that smelled most like her. Santana lay Brittany down on the bed and watched as Brittany's body molded into the sheets like water into a creek bed. Her mouth held traces of a smile, though she was looking paler than before. There was still some blood dripping down her thigh, and Santana wiped it up with her finger, licking it off before reaching down to caress the skin again with no intention other than to feel how soft and warm it was. Brittany's warmth was different than fire or alcohol or smoke. Brittany was warm like a breeze on a hot summer night, like sunshine had once felt on Santana's skin.

Brittany's breath was still ragged, given that she was recovering at human pace. Santana watched her as she drifted further towards sleep and realized she was depleted. She lifted her own wrist to her mouth again, wanting Brittany's warmth stay with her without the slightest waver in its flame. But as she pricked her teeth out, Brittany breathed, "Don't."

Santana paused and looked down to see Brittany opening her eyes. Brittany gave her a tired, breathless smile.

"I told you I wasn't using you for your blood. You're not helping me prove it by doing that."

Santana looked at the ashy color of Brittany's skin and then at her wrist again, the wrist that would look the same no matter what anyone did to it, barring sun and silver exposure. Brittany was a rose petal in comparison to her marble. "I just don't want you to..."

Brittany smiled again. "I know. But I'm okay. Just let me rest for a minute and I'll return the favor."

Santana was stunned when she realized she hadn't even thought about her own orgasm. Usually that was at the forefront of her mind. But watching Brittany gave her a sense of peace no afterglow could. "Oh... That's okay," she mumbled, lying beside Brittany with her head on the pillow. "I'm okay."

Brittany's smile grew curious. "My blood is better than an orgasm?"

Santana felt herself grow warm with embarrassment. "Kind of. It's different."

"Shit," Brittany said, her grin growing smug. "Why doesn't it taste like that to me?" She ran a finger over the inside of her thigh, collecting a trace of blood and bringing it to her lips. Santana licked her lips at the sight. "Nope, still salty metal," Brittany said, sighing in disappointment. "Do you think there's a human equivalent?" she mused.

Santana shook her head. Blood was the best thing about being a vampire. "Maybe if you ate your favorite food while having the best sex of your life."

"So if I ate my favorite food off you?"

Santana quirked her eyebrow. "How do you plan to get me to lie still long enough for that to happen?"

Rallying her strength, Brittany turned on her side, looking at Santana next to her on the bed. "By asking nicely."

"How often has asking a vampire for something nicely gone well?" Santana asked. But despite her effort, there was no bite in her voice. It sounded sweet, like Brittany's warmth had soaked into it.

Brittany gave a loose shrug. "You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

Santana studied the roots of Brittany's hair to where it flowed over her shoulder, draped over her clavicle, and pooled on the white sheet. "Too bad I eat neither," she murmured, even less reproachful than before.

"Too bad," Brittany whispered in response. "But I think you're sweet either way."

Santana let out a quiet noise that was half laugh, half scoff as she fought to look everywhere but at Brittany. "You don't know me."

There was quiet for a moment as Santana tried to think of something to say.

"I'm sorry Quinn made you come here," Brittany murmured.

Santana was surprised. She'd forgotten about Quinn's order. She tried to shrug it off. "Whatever. It happens."

"She's your maker, right?"

Santana nodded, wiping the blood from the corners of her mouth. "Pretty much. She has all the power of one."

"She's not like regular makers?"

Santana shook her head. "She was my friend in college, back before vampires came out. She worked at the campus bar. She was the one who found me. She gave me some of her blood and put me in the ground with her for a night."

Brittany studied Santana's face, her gaze tracing over the lines of her face as Santana frowned.

"What happened before she found you?" Brittany asked.

Santana tried not to recoil at the question. She hated answering, but she didn't want to hide the truth from Brittany. Brittany wouldn't judge her.

She took a deep breath and said the words she'd rehearsed for occasions when she had to tell the truth. It was one sentence, and once it was out, she wouldn't have to say any more. "I was jogging on the wrong trail at dusk and a vampire jumped out and attacked me."

Brittany's face fell in sadness as she watched Santana try to block out the images of her own death replaying in her head. Santana never liked telling her story, but with Brittany, it was easier than any time before.

"I don't tell people that part though," Santana said. "I just say Quinn is my maker. Keeps it simple and Quinn likes it because it boosts her reputation."

Brittany nodded, understanding Santana didn't want to talk about how she'd come to be a vampire. "Has she made others?"

"One," Santana said. "She got staked last year though. That's why Quinn's been such a terror lately, chasing fangbangers and making me clean up after her."

"What, like washing her sheets?"

"No," Santana said, smiling in relief at the change of subject. "Just glamouring humans so they don't talk crap about vampires. Quinn cares a lot about that."

Brittany nodded, looking deeper into Santana's eyes. "I'm sorry Quinn does that to you," she said. "It's not fair to make you do her work. And I'm sorry I was so smug about her ordering you to come here tonight. You don't have to come here anymore."

Santana startled. Did Brittany not want to see her anymore?

This was why she should have kept her bloody mouth shut. The minute she opened up to someone, she got pushed away. Why did she think Brittany was any different?

Just as she was about to roll off the bed and run out of the house, Brittany reached forward, fingering a lock of Santana's hair. "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."

Relief flooded through Santana as Brittany studied the lock of hair between her thumb and middle finger, noticing the sheen eternal death couldn't take away. After a minute, Brittany looked up at her, shy for the first time since they'd met. "Can I kiss you?" she whispered.

Drowning in the deep blue Santana saw before her, she found herself nodding and leaning forward, as if she had been commanded to do so and agreed without a fight. And as their lips met, Santana realized it was the first time they had kissed. Honest, good, slow kisses that tasted like the honey Brittany spoke of and were filled with Brittany's warmth and a hint if her heavenly blood from when she'd tasted herself. Their kisses were slow, intentional, delicate, and deep. They were everything good about kissing Santana could remember from her human days.

But even as they kissed, Santana thirsted for Brittany's blood. Until recently, no blood had been better than others. Sustenance had been sustenance. Everything that moved needed sustenance, and it didn't matter if it was water or food or light or blood. But now, after almost fifty years of needing nothing but a few willing blood sources, Santana felt like she needed something in a way she couldn't control. Other blood wouldn't work anymore. She only wanted Brittany's. Everything else would taste watered-down in comparison.

She pulled away, suddenly in awe of the trust Brittany put in her. What had she done to deserve this?

Looking at Brittany's face - that beautiful, luminous, sunshine face – she was conflicted. She didn't want to take anything from her. She knew if she could shut off the remnants of human feeling, she would drain Brittany in a moment of lust and thirst, depriving herself of future feedings and the peace she felt around her. She could drain Brittany and thirst for more, or she could never see Brittany again and thirst for more. Or she could keep seeing Brittany and thirst for more. There was no way to win. Being a vampire wasn't eternal life or eternal death, it was eternal thirst. It was a sea of saltwater with no shore.

But Santana couldn't bring herself to say any of that. She didn't want Brittany to feel insufficient. Santana cupped Brittany's face and stared into her eyes with all the intensity of glamouring, but none of the intention. She didn't want to glamour Brittany. She knew what it felt like to be forced to do something against her will, and she never wanted Brittany to feel that way. So she simply stared deep into her eyes and tried to let Brittany hear her thoughts: that Brittany was enough, that no matter how limited her blood. And yet as Santana told her that, she realized Brittany never worried about being too much or too little. Brittany was content to be, and it was Santana who felt too little and too much. And with that thought, she started to cry.

As Santana felt a tear slide down her cheek, leaving a trail of blood in its wake, Brittany whispered, "Please don't cry."

"I'm not crying," Santana sniffled.

Brittany gave her a gentle nod. "Please don't bleed out of your eyes, then."

Santana sniffled again, nodding. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm getting like this. It's stupid."

"It's not stupid."

Santana shrugged, not knowing what to say. How could she tell Brittany that being around her made her realize how much she hated being a vampire? How she hated walking around dead, pretending to be superior to other life forms when all she did was weaken and hurt others? She couldn't say any of that, for fear Brittany would realize what a horrible thing she was. So instead she said, "Do you want to see me again?"

Brittany smiled at her, a tired, lazy smile that was half absorbed by the pillow. "So much."

And everything inside Santana settled. She was back in the soothing glow of Brittany's harmless sun. She wanted to ask Brittany why a human would ever like a lifeless, bloodthirsty creature like herself, but she couldn't bear to hear anything other than the warmth around her. So she stroked Brittany's arm and nodded. "Okay."

At that, Brittany hummed and closed her eyes. "I'm just gonna rest for a minute..." she mumbled. Within seconds, Santana felt Brittany sink into slumber, her breathing deepening as she did.

Santana was content to lie beside Brittany, basking in her warmth as she slept. It seemed only a minute had gone by when Santana realized it was almost morning.

"Shit," she whispered. "Britt, I gotta go."

Brittany hummed, still mostly asleep.

"I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Promise?" Brittany asked, opening her eyes.

"Yeah, I promise."

"And you won't make me come hunt you down?"

"No. I'll come to you."

"Where?"

"Here."

Brittany's smile shone like the sun. "Okay," she breathed. "Tomorrow?"

Santana paused. "Would you like that?"

Brittany smiled wider as she nodded.

"Okay then," Santana said, feeling Brittany's smile catch in her chest. "Tomorrow night."

"I can't wait," Brittany said, fingering a lock of Santana's hair again.

Leaving just enough time for her to run home and bury herself before the sun rose, Santana kissed Brittany, inking the promise into her lips.

_Tomorrow night. _


	5. Grounding

A/N: Still having so much fun with this! Unbeta'd. Unapologetic. Unbridled Brittana lust.

* * *

The following night, Santana arrived at Brittany's house as soon as it was dark. Although she was thirsty, she tried to focus her attention elsewhere. Brittany hadn't said anything about feeding or sex. She'd only said she wanted to see Santana again. Santana wanted to be content with another night of warmth and sunshine, so she swallowed her thirst. While of course she thirsted for Brittany's blood, another part of her, the human part, didn't want to hurt Brittany. She wanted Brittany to be as bright and warm and bubbly as she could, and depleting her blood supply would put a damper on her. She was determined not to feed, even if Brittany asked.

She wasn't sure if she should ring the doorbell or scale the wall to Brittany's room and climb through her window. She'd always wanted to do that, but she didn't want to scare Brittany. So she ran to the back yard and tossed pebbles up at Brittany's window. After two had hit, the window flew open and Brittany looked out. Her hair was curled, blowing in the gentle night breeze, and she wore a white cotton sundress. She looked even more beautiful than Santana remembered.

Brittany didn't say anything, but when her eyes found Santana in the dark, she beamed before disappearing back inside. Santana tuned her ear and heard Brittany running down the stairs. Brittany flung the back door open and ran barefoot across the lawn, jumping into Santana's arms. She gripped Santana's waist with her legs, arms wrapping around Santana's neck.

"You came back," she whispered, overjoyed.

Santana looked Brittany in the eye. "Of course. Vampires can keep promises."

"Better than humans, I think" Brittany said, her smile steady as she slipped back down to the ground.

"Of course," Santana said, thinking of the laws that forced her to keep her word and loyalties in line. "No offense," she added, wanting to make sure Brittany didn't think she was implying all humans were flaky or unreliable. Brittany was showing her a whole new side to humans.

Brittany shook the apology off because it wasn't necessary. "How are you?"

"Better" Santana said, not even realizing what she meant.

"Were you not feeling well?" Brittany asked, her face falling in concern.

Santana shook her head. "I'm fine. But better now."

Brittany's face returned to a grin. "Same."

There was a moment of quiet as they stood still in the grass.

Brittany took Santana's hand, studying it with her fingers as she looked into Santana's eyes. The touch made Santana melt. "My parents are still gone."

Santana wasn't sure what she was supposed to infer from that. She bit her lips and nodded.

"Do I have to invite you in every time?" Brittany asked, gesturing back toward the house.

"No," Santana said. "I can come in until someone who lives here rescinds my invitation."

Brittany nodded. "Okay. Well... do you want to come in?"

Santana nodded fervently and let herself be led into the house.

For the first time, she took in her surroundings. Brittany's house was enormous, with furniture that was older than Santana. Some of it was probably older than Quinn. The papered walls were a pretty robin's egg blue, almost like Brittany's eyes. Everything was careful and intentional and stately. And even though Santana's immortal nature rendered her graceful, she was afraid of breaking something. She kept her hands close to her sides, moving as little as possible.

As she was led further into the house, she saw the glow of candles flickering from down the hall. Brittany had substituted candles for lights in the living room, and their flames cast themselves over Brittany now, making her hair and skin and white dress glow golden. She looked warm and bright and promising, like morning had once been. And although Santana was hungry, she tried to keep herself from thinking of the blood that flowed inside Brittany.

"Where do your parents go all the time that they leave a delicious girl like you alone in a house like this?"

Brittany giggled. "They work a lot," was all she offered. "I had the _best_ parties in high school."

Santana hummed, thinking of all the trouble she was sure Brittany got into in the house that now surrounded her. As a human, she'd never been to a party in a house like this, but she could imagine all the trouble that would come underfoot if she'd been given the opportunity.

"Do you want to stay here or go out somewhere?" Brittany asked, watching Santana study their surroundings.

Santana looked around, her discomfort increasing as they walked further into the house. "We can go out," she said. "Are you hungry?"

Brittany gave her a curious smile. "Are you?"

Santana closed her eyes, trying to tune out her thirst. "I'm fine," she lied. "I'll get something later."

Brittany bit her lip, looking around. "I have an idea," she said. "But we have to go to the store."

Santana nodded. She'd liked all of Brittany's plans so far, and she wasn't about to object to this one. "Want me to go? I can be quick."

Brittany shook her head. "Let's go together."

Santana nodded, following as Brittany scooped keys off the table in the hall and picked up her purse.

A few minutes later they were at a convenience store. As Brittany parked, she turned to Santana and said, "Wait here." Santana nodded and closed her eyes, leaning back against the headrest, determined to ignore her thirst. She listened as Brittany went inside, bells clanging behind her. Inside the store, her feet brushed along the worn, chipped tiles as she walked through rows of junk food to the refrigerated section. She opened a few doors and picked up a few bags of crinkling snacks, and then paid. Santana heard the bells again before the driver's side door opened and Brittany handed her a large paper bag. "Here we go," she smiled, putting her keys in the ignition. "Something for both of us."

Santana smiled back before looking into the bag. Brittany had bought a box of cupcakes, a bottle of wine, and a six pack of AB negative Tru Blood. She must have known Santana was thirsty, even if Santana had lied.

"Thanks," Santana mumbled.

"Being thirsty isn't a bad thing, you know," Brittany said in a soft voice, placing her hand on Santana's knee. "Just tell me."

Santana nodded, feeling silly for pretending to be otherwise.

Brittany drove back to her house and took the bag from Santana, leading her up the stairs. "You know how you told me blood tastes like the best food and wine and sex you've ever had combined?"

Santana nodded, unpacking the bag and placing the cupcakes on Brittany's dresser.

"Frosting is my favorite food."

Santana's eyes flickered up to Brittany, realizing what she was implying.

Brittany grinned, stepping closer to Santana. "Would that be okay?"

Santana gave Brittany a blank, overwhelmed nod, feeling her thirst clutch at her throat.

"Good," Brittany whispered, smiling as she leaned in to kiss Santana's cheek. "Do you need to eat first?" Brittany asked.

Santana gave her a fervent nod, feeling her throat and stomach twist with hunger. Brittany smiled and reached into the bag. "I'll be right back," she said with a wink, taking a bottle of Tru Blood downstairs.

Santana heard her feet patter down the stairs and into the kitchen where she heard the microwave open and close before whirring into its rotation. How did Brittany know how to take care of her like this?

When Brittany returned with Santana's heated Tru Blood in a glass, she smiled and set it down on the dresser, along with an empty wine glass. Unscrewing the cap of the wine, she poured some for herself. Next to each other, their glasses didn't look so different. Brittany didn't think she and Santana were that different anyway. For the first time in fifty years, Santana felt normal.

Handing Santana her synthetic blood, Brittany clinked their glasses. "Cheers," she said with a wink.

Santana took a long sip, feeling relief warm her throat and pool in her stomach. It wasn't even close to the flavor of Brittany's blood, but she was thirsty enough that she didn't care. As relief spread through her, she realized she had been stupid to come to Brittany's house when she was so hungry. She made a note to feed before coming here in the future so she could think more clearly and be gentler with Brittany.

"How did you get the wine?" Santana asked, mesmerized with the grace with which Brittany moved.

"Fake," Brittany said. "My friend made it for me and it works every time."

Brittany stepped toward Santana, a smirk lingering on her face as she drew closer. She ran her tongue over her lower lip before tilting her head toward Santana. Her lips were barely an inch away when she whispered, "I want to kiss you again."

Santana felt her stomach flutter as she looked at Brittany's lips, pink and alive and yearning for hers. She could see the blood running through them and the hint of wine on the innermost part. They were the sexiest lips Santana had ever seen. She put her hand on Brittany's lower back, holding out for a moment longer before leaning into Brittany's lips, exhaling into the tension that was always mounting between them. Santana had never felt calmer around someone, and at the same time, never more thirsty of anxious for someone's touch.

Santana could taste Brittany's day: she'd had fruit and peanut butter for lunch and lemonade in the afternoon, and just before waking Santana up, she'd had a piece of chocolate. Mixed with the wine and her blood, Santana wanted to taste Brittany's lips forever.

It was Brittany who moved forward first, pushing Santana towards the bed. She cupped Santana's face, cradling the danger she was putting herself in. She lifted Santana's shirt and parted their lips long enough to remove it, running her nails up Santana's skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"You're so sexy," she hummed into Santana's lips. "I want to eat you up."

"I know the feeling," Santana said, trying to smirk at Brittany, but feeling the intention sucked out of her by Brittany's tongue on her neck. Were all humans this warm and alluring? She didn't think she'd ever met someone as magnetic as Brittany.

"I want to run my tongue all over you and then inside you," Brittany mumbled against Santana's skin. "I want to know what you taste like when you come. And then I want you to drink my blood so you taste how much I love touching you."

Santana's fangs released and she whimpered. How could such naughty words come out of such a sweet, innocent-looking girl? She was certain there should be some law against it, because she felt her vampire-strong knees start to weaken.

How was it possible that this human girl could turn her on so quickly, and hold so much power over her? When was the last time she had stood still while someone undressed her, never fighting for control? When had the simple touch of a hand brought her to her knees? She wondered for a moment if Brittany had some supernatural powers herself, but then realized she would have been able to taste them, even if she didn't know their origin. She knew Brittany was all human. And yet something about her seemed not of this world.

"You can taste when I'm happy, right?" Brittany murmured.

"Yeah..." Santana whispered.

"And you can taste when I'm tired?"

"Yeah..."

"And you can taste when I'm angry?"

"Yeah…"

Brittany removed Santana's bra with one hand, palming her breasts as her tongue danced along Santana's clavicle.

"But there's one thing you don't need to taste to know I'm feeling," Brittany said, her lips against Santana's ear. As she did, she lifted Santana's hand and guided it up her dress, between her legs, and held it against her panties, which were soaked.

Santana looked everywhere within herself to find strength enough to keep still, moving only her fingers. She succeeded, and Brittany removed Santana's skirt and panties and slid her hands around Santana's ass, humming in delight. "So perfect," Brittany whispered. She gave it a squeeze before running her tongue over Santana's ear.

Before Santana knew what was happening, she had torn off Brittany's dress and underwear and was straddling her on the bead, hands pinned above her head. She had let the animal part of her take over, the part that couldn't withstand the discomfort of lust or thirst, the part that had no patience or self-restraint. She had just licked a hard stripe up Brittany's neck and was about to plunge her fangs into Brittany's skin without permission when she realized what she was doing. She sprang back to the end of the bed, mortified.

Brittany's eyes were wide and her limbs were stiff. For the first time, Brittany looked afraid. There were four hard scratches up Brittany's torso, two of which were bleeding.

"Shit!" Santana gasped, hating herself as the blood seeped up in little bubbles from Brittany's flesh. "Fuck, Brittany, I'm sorry!" She put her hands over her mouth, swallowing her thirst as Brittany trembled a little bit. Seeing Brittany's fear and helplessness made Santana hate herself even more. She turned away so she wouldn't have to look at Brittany or the blood that was rising to the surface from her scratch marks. "I shouldn't have come here hungry. I'll leave now..." Santana hid her face in shame, disturbed by the violence her body had inflicted without her consent. As a human, she had prided herself on her self-control, and becoming a vampire seemed to mock everything she had once liked about herself.

Brittany propped herself up on her elbows, looking down at Santana with pity and confusion. "Santana, it's okay," she said, her voice sweet and light, having lost all of its husk. "Why are you upset?"

"Because I attacked you without meaning to!" Santana said, starting to cry. "I hurt you because I did something stupid. It won't happen again," she said, feeling the blood tears trickle down her face as she bent to pick up her clothes.

Brittany sat up and reach for Santana's wrist right as she bent to pick up her skirt. "Santana, stop," she hushed. "It's okay."

"It's not okay!"

Brittany tightened her grip on Santana's wrist and gave her a sad smile. "I knew what I was getting into," she said. "I trust you."

Santana sputtered. How could Brittany trust anything that could kill her in half a heartbeat? How could Brittany trust her when she'd just scratched Brittany so hard she bled? "You shouldn't trust me._ I_ don't trust me."

Brittany's face grew more pitying. "Don't leave," she said. "I've been looking forward to being with you all day."

Santana felt herself sink and her fangs retracted. She couldn't ignore the way her lifeless heart fluttered when she was around Brittany. She didn't want to deprive herself of that feeling. "Me too," she admitted in a whisper.

"So don't leave," Brittany whispered.

Something in Brittany's eyes stilled Santana. While she was standing motionless with her skirt in her hands, Brittany stepped closer. With her free hand, she wiped the blood tears off Santana's face, rubbing them over the scratch marks on her stomach, watching them seal up on contact. "See? You didn't hurt me."

Santana bit her lips. Even if Brittany's wounds had sealed themselves in seconds, she had hurt her. But now she couldn't even tell, and Brittany wanted her to stay. So she took a deep breath to calm herself. "I should probably have another drink so I don't attack you out of hunger."

Brittany nodded, but a slight frown creased her brow. "Is there a reason you don't want to drink from me?"

Santana clenched her fists, knowing Brittany would offer her blood if she knew how badly Santana wanted it. "I don't want to tire you out... I've drunk a lot from you recently. You're already depleted."

Brittany gave a little shrug. "I feel fine." There was a pause. "I went and got some B vitamins today, since that's supposed to help."

Santana bit her lips again, thinking about how good Brittany's blood would taste with the added nutrients. "A few pills won't replenish your blood that quickly. I don't want you to get sick because your body is spending all its energy making blood."

Brittany contemplated for a minute before pulling Santana back down to sit beside her on the edge of the bed.

She paused, then stroked Santana's cheek. "I want to try something," she said, her words dark and warm like blood sliding down Santana's throat. "But you have to promise to tell me if you don't like it."

Santana was curious, but cautious. "Okay..."

Brittany reached for Santana's glass, which was still warm. "Finish this first. I'm going to get you another," she said with a warm smile.

Santana nodded thankfully, closing her eyes to avoid seeing Brittany fully naked as she took another bottle of blood down to the kitchen to heat. Seeing Brittany naked might make her lose control again. She gulped down her blood and listened to the microwave and then to Brittany's feet coming back up the stairs. Brittany placed the warm bottle in her waiting hand. She took several long, precautionary gulps as Brittany watched, feeling the buzzing in her skin settle as her thirst abated. When she was finished, Brittany took the bottle and put it on the nightstand before sliding her hand into Santana's. Santana opened her eyes.

God, Brittany was the most beautiful girl Santana had ever seen.

"I read somewhere that silver doesn't hurt you unless it's in direct contact with your skin."

"That's true."

"And it weakens you but doesn't hurt unless you're touching it."

"That's true..." Santana said, even more cautious.

Brittany took Santana's face in her hands. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Santana said. There wasn't a polite way to say no. And she did trust Brittany. She was just cautious of Brittany's curiosity and adventurous nature.

"Good," Brittany said, with a little smile. "Will you lie down?" she asked, her request gentle.

Santana nodded, gulping down the rest of her blood before sinking into the bed, lying with her head on the pillow. The smell of Brittany's skin billowed up from the sheets as she did, clouding her in flowers and sunshine and cotton. It was a relaxing smell. Brittany stood and went to her dresser, shifting things inside before she withdrew a few silk ties. "I not going to tie you up," she said, studying the fabric in her hands. "But I have an idea."

Santana watched the care and intention with which Brittany moved, sliding the fabric through her hands and feeling the carpet with her toes. She looked so peaceful, in harmony with everything around her. She wanted to move at Brittany's pace, but she didn't know how.

"I don't want to do anything you don't want to do," Brittany said, coming to hover over Santana's body on the bed. "The safe word is _garlic_."

Santana nodded, promising to let Brittany know if she was uncomfortable. As soon as her head stilled, Brittany draped the tie over her eyes. Santana lifted her head to allow Brittany to tie it gently.

Soon Santana felt her ankle being lifted and something tied around it. No sooner had the silk been tied around it, she felt her leg go heavy, as though weighted down. Brittany applied the same grounding tie to the other ankle, making Santana feel as though her legs were stuck to the bed and it would take most of her strength to move them. But when she did try to move them, she found they weren't tied to anything.

"This okay?" Brittany hummed.

Santana nodded. "What is it?" she asked.

"Silver wrapped in silk," Brittany said.

Suddenly Santana was afraid. She knew if one of the ties slipped, her skin would be seared and she would howl in pain. She grew so nervous, she was about to ask Brittany to find another way to slow her down. But then she realized this was what sex with her was like for Brittany every time. Sex with a vampire was always dangerous for humans. And yet Brittany was always unafraid.

Knowing the worst that could befall her was a few burns that would heal within a day or two, Santana didn't say anything. Some people played with hot wax or knives or whips. Brittany played with death. Santana could risk a brush with silver in exchange. And the more she thought about it, the more the danger excited her. Maybe this was why Quinn was always trying freaky shit with her fangbangers. The danger was exciting and arousing. She felt her fangs release and her body warm.

As Brittany encased Santana's wrists, Santana surrendered. For the first time in fifty years, she wasn't going to be in control of her body. And somehow, letting Brittany run the show felt relieving.

"Everything okay?" Brittany's breath said in her ear.

"Yeah," Santana said, her voice higher than she expected.

"Okay. Tell me if something doesn't feel good."

"I will," Santana said, swallowing. But as she ran her tongue over her fangs, she doubted anything Brittany was about to do wouldn't feel good. She tried to clench her fists to calm herself, but she couldn't clench as hard as usual because of the silver draped over her wrists, draining her energy. In a way it was relieving: she knew she couldn't lose control and fling Brittany across the room. But she also felt helpless, like her body could betray her.

Brittany started dragging things across her skin, experimenting with the way different textures made goosebumps rise to the surface. While Santana didn't need to breathe, she found doing so calmed her, creating a rhythm in her body that paced her thoughts and reactions. She breathed as Brittany drew a feather over her cheek and blew on her stomach, and she tried to keep her breathing steady as Brittany drew a leather strap over the inside of her arm and licked a stripe up her neck. Brittany was touching everywhere, save for where the silk draped over her ankles and wrists and where Santana wanted it most. Everywhere felt alive. Brittany was exploring her body in a way Santana never had, and it felt freeing. Brittany was showing her how the softest touch could be powerful. There was no force in Brittany's exploration, yet Santana felt overwhelmed, helpless under her power.

Santana felt another silk being dragged in circles over her stomach, circling and sliding and whispering against her. It didn't feel heavy or dark like the ties around her limbs. Brittany dragged it over Santana's nipples, which rose up at the touch. She let the tip of the fabric dip into Santana's bellybutton. Then she laid it over Santana's sex, making Santana aware of how warm and wanting she was. Her hips were tingling and all her blood seemed to be making its way to her center. She breathed deeper, trying to ground herself, trying to be patient. She knew Brittany had something in store she would enjoy. For a moment she couldn't feel Brittany's hands on her, but then with a rush of excitement and fear, she felt the same heaviness around her wrists and ankles descend on her sex. It settled into her, seeming to crescendo the tingling and rushing, making it hard for Santana to keep breathing. All her patience left her and she started to wriggle, gasping out as she heard Brittany smile.

"Is that okay?" Brittany whispered.

Santana swallowed the saliva in her mouth. "What is it?" she breathed.

"The chain from one of my necklaces."

"Just a thin silver chain?"

"Mhm."

"Fuck," Santana panted. "I can hardly... oh god, Britt... it's so hot!"

Brittany grew concerned. "Like burning hot?"

"No! No, like, please fuck me hot. Britt, I'm so- I need-"

Brittany cut Santana's fragmented gasping off with her lips, kissing Santana with surprising force. "You're okay," she said. "Let me take care of you."

Santana grew more flustered at Brittany's sultry words, swallowing repeatedly as Brittany's lips drifted lower down Santana's neck, leaving slow, wet kisses inch by inch in a line towards her collar bone. She inhaled deeply before palming one of Santana's breasts. "Your skin still tastes like magic," she breathed, inhaling again. "I love the way it tastes..."

"I love the way _you_ taste," Santana responded, feeling her limbs twitch, glad she was weighted down so she wouldn't hurt Brittany.

"Mmm, I think you taste better," Brittany murmured, her lips moving lower as Santana squirmed.

Brittany's mouth found Santana's nipple and she set to work licking and sucking at it, drawing Santana into a frenzy. Santana got so worked up that her legs jerked open wider, and for a moment she panicked, thinking the silk would slip and she would get burned. But the silks stayed secure and her throbbing sex was unharmed through the dampened silk. She cried out as Brittany increased the suction on Santana's nipple and pinched the other.

Brittany chuckled as best she could without releasing Santana's nipple until Santana cried out again, overwhelmed, at which point she popped her lips up and nuzzled Santana's breast with her nose. Then she moved her lips to Santana's other nipple and started sucking, beginning with hard suction, rather than building up as she had with the first. Santana whined and wriggled beneath her.

"Britt, if you don't stop, I'm gonna..." she trailed off, not wanting to say that she was so close already.

"Gonna what?" Brittany asked with smirk as she popped her lips off for a second.

Santana didn't answer, surrendering to the fact that she was moments away from coming and Brittany hadn't even touched her yet.

"God, Britt, please touch me!" Santana panted, letting go of her pride.

"I am touching you," Brittany said, her words sultry and blood-filled.

"No, touch me..."

"Where?"

"You know where!"

Brittany let out a low giggle before bending back to take Santana's nipple in her mouth again. She sucked for a moment before Santana felt the silk over her sex move to the side, the weight shifting to her hip, pushing one side of her torso into the bed. Her blood still rushed through her sex at a furious pace. After a moment of running her fingers against the crease of Santana's hip, Brittany slid her fingers into Santana's sex, running them up and down her lips, teasing.

Santana cried out. Brittany's feather-light touch was overwhelming. A moment later when Brittany slid a single finger inside Santana and made a gentle beckoning, Santana screamed and drew her shoulders and knees inward, overwhelmed by her release. It seemed to go on forever. Brittany sped up the beckoning inside Santana for a few moments before stilling her hand, letting her lips fall to Santana's cheek, leaving gentle kisses on the damp skin.

Brittany kissed her mouth as she came down, and as she did, Santan realized it was the first time she'd ever come without feeding. She was content to lay in Brittany's arms all night, and when Brittany removed the silver, she wasn't worried she'd pounce on her. Brittany nestled into her neck and rested there, dozing as Santana bathed in the smell of her hair and skin and happiness. Santana would have been happy to return the favor, but Brittany's peacefulness told her she didn't need to. Not yet.

When Santana sensed the stillness that happened before dawn, she stiffened. Brittany must have felt it in Santana's muscles, because she startled awake.

"What's wrong? Why did you get all... oh." She looked towards the window. "Dammit." She sighed. "I wish you could stay here all day and sleep with me."

Santana imagined what it would be like to sleep curled around Brittany rather than surrounded by dark, damp earth. She would smell the flowers in Brittany's blood and be lulled to sleep by the rhythm of Brittany's breathing rather than the stale silence of the ground. She would be able to hold a tiny piece of the light with her while she went into the darkness. "I wish I could stay here too," Santana murmured, lost in the fantasy of staying in Brittany's bed.

But then the memory of what the sunlight felt like on her skin took over and she tried not to recoil at the thought.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Brittany asked. "The sun, I mean."

Santana nodded. "Like being dipped in a vat of boiling oil while inhaling smoke."

Brittany's face twisted as she imagined the pain. "We better get you buried, then," she said, turning onto her side. "Do you have to sleep at your house?"

Santana shrugged. "I sleep best there. But it doesn't hurt me to sleep somewhere else."

"So, if my parents had, say, a root cellar they never use, you would be okay to sleep there?"

"I would..." Santana said hesitantly. "But who the hell has a root cellar? That's some _Little House on the Prairie_ shit."

"Did you know Laura Ingalls Wilder?" Brittany asked, her eyes going wide at the possibility of Santana knowing one of her childhood literary idols.

Santana laughed. "No. She died when I was little. But I have read her books."

"What year were you born?" Brittany asked, her eyes still wide with wonder.

"1942. Right in the middle of World War Two, the day _Casablanca_ premiered in New York City."

Brittany's eyes remained wide, but she smiled. "That's so cool..." she whispered, propping her head up on her hand. "How old were you when you became a vampire?"

"I was twenty-one. One week after Kennedy was shot."

"Whoa..." Brittany breathed in awe.

Santana waited for Brittany to realize she was older than Brittany's mother, but Brittany just looked deep into Santana's eyes, as though she wanted to see all the things Santana had seen in her life. Knowing she had a few minutes to spare, Santana kept talking, wanting to keep the reverence and wonder on Brittany's face for just a bit longer.

"_West Side Story_ won the Oscar for Best Picture that year. Marilyn Monroe and Eleanor Roosevelt died right before I did. Quinn made me read _The Feminine Mystique_ first thing after I was turned. I still have an original copy."

"Oh, does Quinn sleep with girls too?" Brittany asked, curious.

Santana rolled her eyes, all too familiar with Quinn's antics. "Quinn sleeps with everyone."

Brittany giggled. "How old is Quinn?"

"She was turned right after women got the right to vote."

"Whoa," Brittany said.

"She's not that old. Her maker was a slave owner."

Brittany was quiet, unsure what to say. "When you were little, did you have to..." she paused for a moment, unsure if she should ask, "you know... go to a separate school?"

Santana nodded.

Brittany's lower lip poked out in a genuine pout and she looked like she was about to cry. Santana didn't like to remember segregation either, so she kept talking. "I think the saddest thing was that I was too rough around the edges after I was turned to be let out of Quinn's sight to take part in early Beatlemania. I did get to go to Woodstock, though."

Brittany laughed. "Wow, you're so old!"

Santana tried to sound offended, but it wasn't convincing. "I am not old! I've been a vampire barely fifty years! I'm just cutting my fangs, as they say."

Brittany giggled and tapped Santana's chin. "Well, I think your fangs are beautiful and I hope the Fang Fairy gives you a million dollars for each one, Baby Vampire."

Santana felt herself warm with embarrassment and endearment for Brittany. "I'm not going to lose them like baby teeth," she said, trying to grumble but laughing instead.

"Good," Brittany said. "That way you never have to take a break from drinking from me."

Santana felt her chest clutch at what Brittany was implying: she wanted Santana to drink from her for the foreseeable future. Every part of Santana's body was happy to hear that.

But the dawn was approaching and she didn't want to be caught in the light. "Want to show me this ridiculous root cellar your parents have?" she said, growing restless and nervous as a few birds started to rustle in the trees outside.

Brittany nodded and sat up, twisting and setting her feet on the ground as Santana dressed at vampire speed. Pulling a robe over her shoulders, Brittany led Santana down the stairs into the kitchen, where she opened a small door next to the pantry. From there, they walked down a dimly lit staircase to the basement. In the corner of the basement was a wall with an even smaller door in it. "I used to hide in there when I wanted to piss my parents off as a kid," Brittany said, whispering as though it was still a secret. "Hopefully you'll like it."

Santana could smell that the earth was cool and clean, with a hint of actual roots from the oak and aspen trees outside, and a lingering scent of what must have been childhood Brittany. As long as she wouldn't be disturbed, she would be fine to sleep there for a day.

"Are you sure no one will come down here?" she asked.

"Positive," Brittany said, bobbing her head. "They only come in the basement every few months to check for flooding. They never go in the root cellar."

"Why do you even have a root cellar?" Santana asked again.

"This house is old," Brittany said, shrugging. "People used to do all kinds of weird stuff with plants." She stopped for a moment, smiling as she squinted at the floor. "I used to pretend that I was a witch and mash up clods of dirt and flower petals. But my potions never worked."

Seeing the feigned disappointment on Brittany's face, Santana wanted to play along. "You never know," she said. "Maybe they did."

Brittany looked at her. "I did make an awful lot of love potions..."

As soon as she said it, her eyes widened, realized what she had implied.

"You better get in there," Brittany said, pointing to the little door, her words rushed the way Santana's heart would have been beating. "I hear the sun rising."

Santana would have given anything to stay standing in the cobwebbed, drafty basement with Brittany for a moment longer, but she knew she couldn't. So she kissed Brittany on the cheek and said, "The sun sets at 7:56. I'll see you then." She opened the small door and crouched to climb inside, sealing herself in the damp, earthy cave that was Brittany's root cellar.

She found a small, flat patch to lie down in and laid her head to the earth, feeling her body exhale in relief that she'd found safety soon enough. Even on mornings when she didn't cut it close, the relief of lying in the earth made her feel warm and peaceful. She let the soil cradle her, soaking into her as she drifted into deep, dreamless vampire sleep.


	6. Pomegranate Seeds

Hey! Sorry it's been a few weeks. I have lots in store for these girls, both in this story and in Dandelion. Hope you enjoy! Unbeta'd.

* * *

Santana awoke to a soft tapping on the door of the root cellar.

"Santana?" Brittany whispered. "Are you awake?"

Santana lifted her head and looked at her watch, seeing that it was exactly 7:56. "Yeah," she whispered. "I'm awake."

"Can I come in?" Brittany asked.

Santana surveyed her surroundings, seeing the spiders and worms and other creatures who had crawled to the corners of the cellar out of fear. "Um... it's kind of messy."

"It's also dark, so I won't be able to see."

Right. Brittany couldn't see in the dark. "I'll just come out," Santana said, sitting up and combing her fingers through her hair. She tried to stand, but the room was too short, so she stooped enough that she could brush off her clothes and comb through her hair a few more times. As she stepped out of the root cellar and saw Brittany, dazzling and giddy before her, she realized how hungry she was. She knew this was a recipe for disaster.

"I need to eat," Santana blurted right away, her gaze fixating on Brittany's neck that pulsed so delectably.

Brittany giggled, tilting her head. "Go ahead."

Santana felt herself lurch toward Brittany, but stopped herself. "No... No, I don't want to deplete you. I want to..." she paused, swallowing as she figured out what she wanted to do, besides drink from Brittany. "I want to go out to dinner."

Brittany's smile spread. "Really?"

Santana nodded, steeling herself against feeding from Brittany. She decided once every three days was all Brittany's body could handle at this stage of their arrangement.

"That sounds perfect."

Twenty minutes later they were seated in a booth across from each other, Brittany pouring over her menu as Santana watched her eyes dance, adoring everything about her.

"Are you really allergic to garlic?" Brittany asked, leaning in a little bit as if she were embarrassed to ask.

"Not allergic, really," Santana said with a little giggle. "It irritates my eyes and my skin. That's why I don't want you eating it, because then kissing you won't be as fun. But I won't burst into flames or break out in hives."

"Oh. Okay," Brittany chirped, looking back at her menu. "No garlic, then."

Santana watched as Brittany's eyes roamed over the menu, fascinatingly blue and wondrous about every little thing in the world.

"I'd probably kiss you anyway," Santana blurted before she realized she was thinking it.

Brittany looked up from her menu with a enamored grin, biting her smile down as she met Santana's eyes. "There's lots of good things to eat here that have no garlic," she said. Brittany looked at the menu again, then up at Santana. "Do you know what you're getting?"

"I was thinking of mixing things up and going for an O negative."

Brittany shook her head, embarrassed. "Wow, I totally forgot you don't eat food."

Santana thought that was the sweetest thing Brittany had ever said. Brittany had actually _forgotten_ Santana was a vampire. And to be honest, sometimes when Santana was around Brittany, she forgot too.

"Don't you always drink AB negative?" Brittany asked.

Santana shrugged. "Do you always drink red wine?"

Brittany tilted her head and gave Santana a curious smile. "So you get tired of it?"

"Never of yours," Santana said, dropping her voice.

Brittany's grin grew bashful.

"Just the synthetic stuff. You wouldn't want to eat the same thing for every meal either."

"Very true."

There was silence as Brittany contemplated her menu. "Sometimes I have a hard time making decisions. There are so many choices..."

"I guess that's the upside to only having eight choices," Santana said. "Although before I met you I started experimenting with combinations."

"Combinations?"

"Yeah. A little A positive with some O negative, splash of B positive."

"So you're like, a vampire chef."

"More like a bartender."

"That's awesome," Brittany declared. "You'll have to teach me your favorites so I can make them for you."

Santana lowered her voice again. "You already make my favorite."

Brittany blushed, the very blood Santana spoke up rising in her cheeks.

"You're pretty when you blush," Santana said. "It makes you look even tastier."

Brittany flushed deeper pink. "Stop it," she mumbled, trying to bite down a smile.

"Stop what? Complimenting you? I think, after what you did to me last night, I'm allowed to."

Brittany kicked her feet a little under the table in defeat. "Okay. But I get to get you back."

"Oh really?"

Brittany grinned, a cat-like smirk crossing her face. "You're really sexy when you stare at my neck."

Santana grew embarrassed, looking down to avoid looking at Brittany entirely so she wouldn't be caught staring at Brittany's neck.

"Your eyes get really dark and big and you bite your lips, even though you're trying to be sly about staring. I don't think you even know you're staring at my neck."

Santana hid her face in her hands. Brittany could read her better than she thought.

"See? Two can play this game," Brittany smiled. "I bet right now you're trying to keep those fangs in pretty hard."

Santana bit her tongue, hoping the dull pain would distract her from Brittany running her fingers over her neck in Santana's peripheral vision. She shook her head in denial.

"Oh, that's a shame. Because I was thinking that after dinner we could go back to my parents' house and have sex in the back of the Rolls."

Despite her efforts, Santana's fangs sprung out and she gasped in defeat. She was no match for Brittany's seduction.

"Fine," she gulped.

"Fine, we can have sex in the Rolls?"

"Yeah."

"You sound real excited about that, Santana. Maybe I should just pin you to the wall with my silver and lie in the backseat and take care of myself where you can see."

Santana shuddered and gasped. "No. No, I want to be in the car too. Definitely." She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth and ran her tongue over her fangs.

Brittany gave her a satisfied smile and looked back down at her menu. "I think I'll get some chicken with a side of minestrone soup. That sound good to you?"

"I guess?" Santana said. "It's not like we'll be sharing it." She didn't realize how much her words sounded like a grumble.

Brittany set down her menu. "You'll be able to taste it on my lips though."

"True," Santana said with a dismissive shrug. "But mostly I just taste your blood."

Brittany bit her lips and nodded slowly. "Do you miss it?" she asked.

"I'll get some after dinner," Santana said, trying to turn the conversation playful again with a wink, lifting her upper lip just enough for Brittany to see her fangs.

"No, I mean food."

Santana dropped back down into feeling resentful. She tucked her fangs in. "Yeah," she admitted in a soft voice. "I really do."

Brittany gave her a sad face. "What was your favorite?"

"Chocolate."

Brittany nodded again. "What happens if you eat it?"

"I get sick," Santana said with a heavy shrug.

"How sick?"

"Like vomiting it up with some blood."

Brittany wrinkled her nose. "Yuck. I'm sorry."

The waitress appeared by their table with her notepad. She turned to Santana expectantly, and Santana didn't meet her eyes as she ordered an O negative. As the waitress wrote it down, Santana glanced up and saw her biting her lips, her face just the slightest bit hardened at Santana's outing of herself.

The waitress turned to Brittany and said "The same?" with impatient, short words.

"No," Brittany said, glancing between the waitress and Santana, sensing the tension. "I'm going to have the pomegranate chicken and a side of minestrone soup."

The waitress raised her eyebrows as she wrote, but said nothing.

"And do you have any pomegranate juice?"

"Can't have pomegranate chicken without pomegranate juice."

"I'd like a glass of that to go with my entree, please."

"Anything else?"

Brittany shook her said. "That's all. Thank you."

The waitress left all too quickly, and Brittany's attention turned to Santana. "Do you get that a lot?"

"Whenever I go to mainstream places like this, yeah."

Brittany looked so sad. "I can't imagine..."

"It's not so different than right after segregation ended. Difference is, people can't tell I'm dead by looking at me, you know?"

Brittany's brow creased in concern. "But that's horrible..."

If Brittany had been anyone else, Santana would have snapped back with something like, _What did you expect? The world is a horrible place_. But looking at Brittany's sweet, innocent concern, she softened it. "There are lots of scary things in the world, Britt." And although she didn't say it, Santana wanted to add, _and I'll protect you from as many of them as I can_.

Brittany nodded. "You've probably met some scary people."

Santana nodded, but after a moment, she shook her head, playing with the edge of her napkin on table. "Actually, the scariest thing isn't the people. It's what people do with power and money and misunderstanding."

Brittany let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah."

The conversation came to an anxious halt between them, and Santana didn't know what to say. Luckily Brittany perked up and said, "Hey, I want to hear more about Woodstock!"

Santana gave her an adoring smile and told her about dropping congealed Fairy Blood with Quinn right before Janis Joplin performed with the Kozmic Blues Band.

After dinner, which consisted of three O negative Tru Bloods for Santana, Santana took Brittany to get a scoop of chocolate ice cream. Then they went back to Brittany's house, and although Brittany had mentioned sex in the Rolls, Santana could feel she was tired and led her up to her room instead. After all, Brittany had been sleeping far less than Santana recently. She picked Brittany up and put her on the bed gently. She succeeded, surprising herself with her own gentleness. She was treating Brittany with all the care she would treat one of the antiques downstairs. Santana could hardly believe she had once thrown Brittany on a bed so hard she bounced, and watched Brittany giggle in response. Now something inside her had been stilled, and she didn't want to throw Brittany around. As she settled onto the bed next to her, she remembered last night, when she hadn't been as gentle. Santana felt a heavy shame cloud her, reminding her what a horrible creature she was.

"I'm really sorry about last night," Santana mumbled.

"Why are you sorry?" Brittany said, tilting her head.

"Because I came here without eating. That was really stupid," Santana said, closing her eyes as she tried not think about what would have happened if she hadn't been able to stop herself.

"You need to let it go," Brittany said, putting her hand on Santana's cheek. "You didn't hurt me and we ended up having an amazing night together."

Santana nodded. They had had an amazing night together. The best sex of her life, in fact, and that was saying something. But she still couldn't believe how foolish she'd been.

"I don't ever want to put you in danger, Britt," she murmured, her face conveying how sorry she was.

"I know," Brittany said, her eyes serious and calm. "Don't worry so much."

"I worry a lot. I'm new to this," Santana said, trying to make herself feel less guilty while at the same time assuming responsibility.

_You're new to this_ was the phrase Quinn had used a lot when Santana was first turned. Sometimes it had a hint of a maternal ring to it, but after a few years, Quinn would frown or purse her lips and say it to discount Santana's opinions or wishes. It was a phrase she wished didn't apply to being around Brittany.

"New to what?" Brittany asked.

"This... thing."

Brittany gave Santana a tentative smile. "This... thing," she echoed.

"Yeah. Being... friends with a human."

"Friends," Brittany said, the word sounding rigid.

Santana gave Brittany a slow, contemplative nod. Brittany searched Santana's face for a moment before rolling onto her back, staring at the ceiling. The room felt heavy and dark, beyond the usual cloak of night.

Santana listened to Brittany breathe, wishing she could hear her thoughts as she studied the paint on the ceiling. Brittany closed her eyes for a moment and then rolled towards Santana.

"I don't want to be your friend," Brittany blurted.

Santana was utterly relieved. She knew she'd used the wrong word, but she didn't know what to call what she had with Brittany. Were they dating? Together? Exploring the boundary between vampire and human relationships? Santana had no examples to draw from, other than a few skeezy celebrities who glamorized their vampire relationships that never lasted more than a month. She wanted more substance than anything she'd heard of.

Santana looked into Brittany's eyes and forced her lips to form the soft, scared words, "I don't want to be your friend either."

Brittany said nothing, only stared at Santana for a moment before crashing her lips against Santana's, startling her and relaxing her at the same time. Friends didn't kiss like this. An experiment didn't make Santana's whole body go weak with desire and respect. She let Brittany's tongue push against hers, pushing her to admit they were more than friends. When Brittany finally pulled back, panting, she breathed, "I don't want to do that with any of my friends."

At that, Santana rolled on top of Brittany, kissing her again, telling Brittany with her body that she wanted so much more than friendship too. If there was a way to merge their bodies together, Santana would have done it and still wanted to be closer. She wanted every part of Brittany, and her mouth and hands and hips rocking into Brittany weren't enough. She kissed Brittany's jaw and and licked her ear. Brittany was panting beneath her, mirroring the urgency Santana felt to claim Brittany as her own.

"I want to be yours," Brittany gasped. "All yours."

Santana moaned into Brittany's neck.

"Bite me," Brittany pleaded. "Make me yours."

At Brittany's request, Santana licked a stripe up Brittany's neck before plunging her fangs into the dampening skin, puncturing the flesh and letting blood spring forth, hot and delicious and calming on Santana's tongue. She drank it as slowly as she could, not wanting to make Brittany faint or dizzy. She drank until she heard Brittany's moans die down to whimpers, at which point she lifted her head and tore her fangs into her own wrist, letting blood start to drip as she held it to Brittany's mouth. Brittany sucked gratefully, ravenously, humming in desperation against Santana's skin, her hips rocking up into Santana as she swallowed. After a few moments she gasped and pulled away, her face smeared with Santana's blood and an elated, sleepy smile.

"And you're mine," she panted.

Santana kissed her neck, licking up a few drops that still spilled from the puncture wounds.

"All yours," she assured.

She was about to wipe her wrist over Brittany's neck to heal the wounds, but Brittany caught it and shook her head. "Leave it," she panted.

Santana was startled. She had no doubt of Brittany's feelings for her, but parading around with bites was a bigger statement than she realized Brittany wanted to make.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

Brittany nodded immediately. "I want to think of you when I look in the mirror. I'm proud to be yours."

Santana's own words to Brittany from their first meeting echoed in her head. _Fangbanging is nothing to be proud of_. But as she looked at Brittany, who was gloriously open and happy below her, she realized that if she could carry a mark of her around all me time, she would. She was proud of Brittany. As for some mysterious reason, Brittany was proud of her.


	7. Valentine's Day

A/N: Happy Vday! Here's a fluffy chapter to celebrate the kissversary, vampire-style.

* * *

Chapter Six: Valentine's Day

* * *

Despite her impulse to heal Brittany immediately, Santana let the puncture wounds stay fresh and angry, weeping down Brittany's neck. She lapped up the drops before they reached the pillow, her tongue gentle against the damaged skin. She lathed her tongue over and over, as if she could take away some of the pain or replenish some of Brittany's blood. But her tongue couldn't do those things, and although her blood was now coursing through Brittany, healing her faster than any medicine could, she felt guilty. She licked and licked until Brittany sighed and giggled and little bit.

"What are you doing?"

Santana smiled and tucked her tongue back behind her lips. "Just tasting you."

Brittany smiled and rolled Santana onto her side, gazing into her eyes as she adjusted herself on the pillow, staring deep. The bite marks shone prominently in the moonlight streaming through the window. She kissed her gently, lips still and warm and tired, as if trying to soothe Santana from her apologetic licking.

Brittany pulled back, smile gracing her face. "So what does it mean, that I'm yours and you're mine?" she asked, her words hushed and excited.

Santana shrugged. She had no idea what it meant, other than future feedings and nights spent in Brittany's bed just like this. If that's what being Brittany's meant, she wanted to be Brittany's forever.

"I don't know. I'm..."

"New to this," Brittany finished, an amused grin playing on her blood-stained lips.

Santana nodded.

"Well, do I get to call you my girlfriend?" Brittany asked, eyes sparkling with excitement.

Santana chilled at that. Of course she wanted to be Brittany's girlfriend. But the word _girlfriend_ felt too loud and heavy for her. She wasn't a girl. Not a live one, at least. She was a vampire.

"I could be your vampire companion," she said, only half joking.

"Oh, that flows right off the tongue. At the next tri-delta party, I'll introduce you to everyone as my vampire companion. That doesn't make you sound like a service animal at all."

Santana chilled colder still at Brittany's sarcasm, but more at what Brittany had just implied. Brittany wanted to go to sorority events together?

That was more than Santana had expected. She was certain being with Brittany would be wonderful no matter the occasion, but being surrounded by coeds at a Greek party didn't sound like her idea of fun. She had partied through the 70s as a vampire, and she didn't think the keggers Brittany went to were her scene. She didn't think less of Brittany for going to them; she could picture in her toga or 80's costume, Solo cup in her hand and she danced and laughed with her friends. In all those images, Brittany was beautiful and happy and impossible to dislike. It was the other people Santana disliked. The frat boys and the bleach-blond WASPS and their valleygirl upspeaking and hysterical drunken tears and sloppiness. She couldn't imagine Brittany being sloppy, but the picture around her was sloppy.

She swallowed. "You want me to go sorority stuff with you?" Her words sounded dry and stiff like cardboard.

Brittany gave her a bright nod. "I want you to meet everyone."

Santana's stomach clenched, overwhelmed at the prospect.

Brittany wanted her to meet _everyone_? Already? They hadn't known each other very long. The only time they'd been around other people had been in Fangtasia when Santana was being callous and cruel to Brittany. She had no idea how to be around Brittany in public without making a fool of herself. She was certain she'd cling to Brittany's elbow the entire time. Not because she was nervous, but Brittany was grounding and light and cheerful and so, so beautiful, Santana would need to be by her side the whole night to make sure no one hurt her.

Like Santana had almost hurt her. Santana, who wanted nothing more than to be Brittany's human girlfriend, had hurt her.

Santana was relieved when she realized it was almost morning.

"We can figure out a word for each other later," she said, already zipping back into her guarded self for the journey down the stairs to Brittany's root cellar. "Come kiss me good morning?"

Brittany nodded and sat up, pulling a robe on. Santana put on her shoes and they walked down the stairs to the kitchen and into the basement. Although Santana felt tired and heavy and her joints were loose and her lips were raw from kissing and feeding, felt stiff and guilty. She couldn't wait to feel the earth around her, cool and nurturing.

When they arrived in the root cellar, Santana gave Brittany a deep kiss before ducking to climb into what was quickly becoming her favorite place to sleep. The earth smelled faintly of childhood Brittany, and if she listened hard enough, she could hear Brittany's heartbeat as she fell asleep, steady and gentle as Brittany roamed the house above her.

Santana had just settled into the earth when she heard Brittany's feet pattering down the stairs towards her again before the little door opened. Santana sat up, worried something was wrong. But she didn't have time to ask any questions before she saw Brittany crouching at the door, tugging her comforter into the enclosure.

"Britt, I don't need a blanket," Santana said.

Brittany pulled the blanket all the way in, tucking it under her arm as she maneuvered in the cramped space.

"It's for me," she said. "It's silly to go sleep in my bed upstairs while you sleep down here."

"Oh..." Santana said, stunned. There wasn't a logical reason Brittany couldn't sleep with her, but surely it would be uncomfortable for her fragile body. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Brittany said with a smile, settling against Santana's side. She curled around her, head resting on Santana's shoulder as her arm draped over Santana's waist.

"Okay," Santana said, unable to contain her smile. The earth about her felt lighter and warmer as Brittany wiggled closer, letting out a contented hum.

"You're soft," Brittany murmured.

Santana said nothing, thankful Brittany couldn't see her smitten grin in the dark. No one had ever told her she was soft before. But then again, no one had ever curled against her like this to sleep.

She wanted to tell Brittany how special she was, how she made her feel alive and happy and less like a life-sucking beast. But before she could find the words, she heard Brittany's soft snores, gentle and warm like a kitten.

Santana fell asleep smiling for the first time in her existence.

* * *

Brittany and Santana continued spending every night together in Brittany's bed, making passionate love and staring deep into each other's eyes for hours at a time. Santana told Brittany about the confusing dynamic between her and Quinn, and Brittany listened, pouting and saying she wished Santana had a nicer maker. Santana learned that Brittany wanted to be a veterinarian, and once she was licensed, planned to convert an RV into a mobile pet hospital, visiting animals that were too sick or too poor to go to a clinic. Santana loved her even more for that.

One evening when Santana woke up in the root cellar, she found a bottle of Tru Blood in Brittany's place, with a note saying she had a Pan-Helenic council hearing she'd promised a friend she'd go to, but she would be home at nine thirty to celebrate. Santana smiled, holding the note to her chest as she rolled into Brittany's comforter, smelling her and feeling her stomach do joyous flips.

After a minute, Santana read the note again. What had Brittany meant when she said "celebrate"? She scanned through her mental calendar, remembering that Brittany's birthday was a month away, and that Brittany's favorite holiday was Christmas, which wasn't for a long time.

But then she realized with horror that it was Valentine's Day. She had almost forgotten, and she flooded with guilt at the thought of Brittany's disappointment if she hadn't remembered on time.

Santana sprung into action. She got up, brushed herself off, and ran to the nearest shopping center.

Santana spent the entire time Brittany was at her meeting frowning into the cookbook she'd picked up. Her human mother had taught her how to cook as a teenager, but that was so long ago, she didn't remember much beyond how to turn on an oven. The appliances in Brittany's kitchen were huge and confusing and Santana didn't know how to use any of them. She didn't want to set anything on fire, so she decided to stick to the one appliance she did know how to use: the microwave.

She was able to create a make-do fondue for Brittany, melting the cheese and mixing it with wine in the microwave, opening the door every thirty seconds to stir the contents of the bowl before closing it and letting it whir again. It didn't smell good, but most human food smelled like cardboard or cabbage to her. That is, until Brittany tasted it, and then she got the full flavor in her mouth, as delicious and satisfying as it had been when she was human. Even foods she hadn't liked as a human, like shrimp and broccoli, tasted good to her now, because Brittany liked them.

Santana heard Brittany's car in the driveway and her stomach fluttered with nerves. She realized she hadn't set the flowers on the table yet, lit the candles, or poured Brittany's wine. She was grateful for her vampire speed as she was able to do those things in the time it took Brittany to turn off her car, take her backpack out of the passenger's seat, and come in the garage door.

When Brittany saw the romantic scene before her, she dropped her backpack to the floor as her jaw fell open.

"For me?" she asked.

Any other time, Santana would have made a sarcastic joke about it being for another girl, but she was too smitten with Brittany to risk her taking the joke seriously. So she grinned like a fool and nodded, feeling her stomach flip with joy at Brittany's enthusiastic reaction.

Brittany walked over to the table, beaming as she took in the candles and food and wine.

"No one's ever made me dinner before..." she said, breathless.

"No one's ever slept in the ground with me before," Santana countered. She wanted Brittany to know how special she was, and that she intended to remind Brittany of that for as long as Brittany would have her. "And no one's ever wanted to call me their... girlfriend."

Brittany's shoulders fell and she gave Santana an adoring smile. "I do want to call you my girlfriend."

Santana caved. It made her heart feel too warm to hear Brittany say that, so she stepped over to the table. "Well then, _girlfriend_," she said, smiling around the word. "Your dinner in waiting for you."

Brittany was bubbling over with happiness as she took her seat and let Santana scoot her towards the table. She put her napkin in her lap and watched as Santana heated up the blood she'd picked up from her house while she was out running errands. She figured such a nice occasion called for something fancier than Tru Blood.

Brittany eyed Santana's glass as she set it down, squinting. "Is that synthetic?" Brittany asked, her tone indicating she knew it wasn't.

Santana felt an unexpected twinge of guilt at Brittany's question, but didn't want to lie. "No," she said. "It's from one of my long-standing sources."

Brittany's lips crinkled in a muted, unreadable expression. After a moment of silence, Santana realized Brittany was wondering how she got blood from other people. Brittany didn't know any vampires other than Santana, and had never witnessed a feeding where she wasn't the meal.

"I don't feed directly from anyone but you," Santana assured her. "I wouldn't want to."

Brittany looked relieved, but still frowned. "Oh." She took a bite sip of her wine and then let her curiosity get the best of her. "Then how does it work?"

"They have bloodletting kits. They text me when they have a few bags filled, and I let them know when they can drop it off. I pay them a flat rate per bag. We hardly say five words to each other."

Brittany smiled and perked up as she tore off a piece of bread, speared it, and dipped it into the steaming fondue. "Like having a pizza delivered."

Santana giggled. "Pretty much." But she was still worried that Brittany was uncomfortable with her drinking other people's blood. "Is that okay with you?"

Brittany gave her a curious frown. "Is what okay with me?"

Santana gave an embarrassed shrug. "Drinking other people's blood."

Brittany gave her an amused giggle. "Of course. You have to eat."

"Yeah, but..."

Brittany put her first bite of fondue in her mouth and her eyes went wide in delight. She chewed for a few second before lifting her hand to her mouth as she said, "It's so good!"

Santana beamed, relieved her first cooking experiment in fifty years hadn't gone awry. "Good," she said. She closed her eyes and sensed Brittany's mouth, tasting the cheese and herbs and wine, perfectly melted together and soaked into the bread. It was good.

Brittany tore off another piece of bread before she'd finished chewing the first, sticking it on her fork to swirl in the cheese. She ate so enthusiastically and with so much appreciation, Santana forgot to drink the blood in front of her because she was so captivated by Brittany eating.

When Brittany put a hand on her belly and declared herself full, Santana realized she hadn't given Brittany the gift she'd picked up yet. She felt awkward and tentative. She didn't want it to be obvious she hadn't dated in a while. Sex, she had done a million times. But this was new.

How was she supposed to give a gift to someone she was dating? Even though she'd been on earth for over seventy years, there were still things she didn't know how to do. So she reached into her purse and pulled out the package, which she had carefully wrapped in shiny silver paper. She had chosen the paper on purpose, because of Brittany's affinity for using silver in creative and sensual ways. It was kind of one of their things, she supposed. Brittany was teaching Santana that not all things that can hurt are scary. Silver was a metal like all other metals, and as long as Santana didn't touch it directly, it was exciting to play with. Santana nudged the little box towards Brittany.

After looking at the package and then up at Santana curiously, a smile crept over Brittany's face. She got the joke. She bit her lips and nudged the package with her finger.

"For me?"

Santana nodded bashfully.

"What'd I do to deserve this?" Brittany said, picking it up and turning it over in her hands to find the raw edge of the paper to slip her finger under.

Santana gave her a shrug, but in her head, she was thinking that Brittany had done so much to deserve this gift, starting with being born and growing up to be perfect. Brittany was adventurous and playful and stubborn and the most sexy person Santana had ever seen, living or dead. The trinket inside was hardly a sufficient reward for all the happiness Brittany had given Santana.

Brittany slid her finger under the tape and nudged it up, and Santana couldn't help but hope she'd get a little papercut so Santana could have a taste of what awaited her after dinner. But she didn't.

Brittany unwrapped the paper, discarding its stiff form to the floor beside her, and studied the plain box, just a bit bigger than a pack of cards. Brittany opened it and gasped. She dropped the box as if it were dangerous and put her hands to her mouth. She shook her head before moving her hands to reveal a smile.

"Oh my gosh!" Brittany exclaimed. "It's real, isn't it?"

Santana gave her a smug nod.

"No, it's too much," Brittany protested.

Santana kept smiling and reached to take the charm bracelet from the box. "It's not too much."

"But someone our age can't possibly afford..." Brittany trailed off, realizing they weren't the same age. "I mean... I couldn't afford this unless my parents bought it..."

Santana simply held the gold charm bracelet up to Brittany's wrist, which was still midair over the table in surprise. "Lucky for you, I invested well in the nineties," Santana said. "And you deserve it just for being you."

Brittany let Santana clasp the bracelet around her wrist and then began studying the charms. There was a dog and a cat and a dolphin, seeming to leap through the gold links of the bracelet in an endless dance around Brittany's wrist, paired with a tiny stethoscope, which Santana had chosen to represent Brittany's dream of being a veterinarian. There was a minature pomegranate with tiny rubies set inside like seeds. There was a tiny cupcake with diamond-encrusted frosting on top, which made Brittany giggle. The last two charms were Santana's favorite: a tiny coffin next to a heart engraved with an S. When Brittany saw those charms, she cooed and kissed each one.

"It's _beautiful_," she breathed, studying the links. "Are you sure it's not too much?"

"It's hardly enough," said Santana. "Luckily there's plenty of room for more charms."

Brittany looked at Santana in adoration before leaning forward across the table to kiss her. "You are the sweetest person in the whole world."

And from the look in Brittany's eyes, Santana actually believed her. She felt like a sweet person - _person_ - for the first time in five decades. But she didn't believe she'd always been that way.

"Must be your blood," she said with a wink. "It's sweet like pomegranate juice."

Brittany smiled and stroked the bracelet on her arm. "Your blood is sweet too," she said, lowering her voice. "It tastes like chocolate."

Santana gave her a dubious smile.

"Okay, not exactly... but like, chocolate blood."

Santana said nothing, just smiled across the table at Brittany. She would have been content to stare at Brittany the whole night.

But Brittany's smile quickly turned wicked.

"I got you something too," she said, her voice low and sultry.

Santana quirked an eyebrow, all too eager to hear Brittany's plan.

Brittany reached into her cleavage, pulling out a silver chain and a silk tie. Santana's heart thudded with arousal, swallowing around her sudden thirst. The chain dangled in front of Santana, more arousing than scary. Brittany pushed herself up from the table and walking slowly toward the garage, casting a vixenish look over her shoulder as she did.

She didn't even have to explain what was about to happen.

They were going to have sex in the back of the Rolls.


	8. Stain

**A/N: Here you go! Finally sex in the Rolls. **

**The chapter after this one is one of my favorites, and I'll have it up in a few days. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Stain**

* * *

Santana tried to move at human speed as she followed Brittany toward the garage, but it was impossible. She was too excited and too hungry. She'd been so mesmerized by Brittany's beauty and too wrapped up in tasting everything that glided over Brittany's tongue, she'd forgotten to drink her blood at dinner.

It was a strange experience, watching Brittany eat. As she watched, she had tasted and felt everything Brittany felt, although her body remained still. Now, as she raced toward the garage, she even felt a little full, content with the flavors that she knew logically weren't in her belly, but felt were there nonetheless. It was like experiencing things in a mirror: the things she felt, Brittany could feel too, and the things Brittany felt, she felt as well.

Like she could feel Brittany's arousal now. Paired with her own, she was too pent up to move slowly. She reached the door before Brittany did, turning around to give Brittany a seductive quirk of her eyebrow as she twisted the knob. She flew to the side of the Rolls, feeling Brittany's pulse echo in her own veins, blood flowing to her sex.

Brittany moved slowly, excruciating and delicious as she walked into the dark. The candlelight from inside the house barely made glints on the perfect, shiny hoods of the three cars parked inside.

Brittany started to tease. "I've always wanted to utilize the spacious backseat of the Audi." Her smile was tugged to one side, and Santana bit her lips before sliding her tongue over the plump bottom lip that wanted to be gliding over Brittany.

"That so?" Santana said, playing along.

"Mhm," Brittany hummed, dragging her fingertips over the grate. "Or maybe on the hood of the Hummer. I love the thud of metal underneath me while I fuck. It's like my favorite thing."

Santana swallowed, not wanting to picture Brittany underneath anyone else. "Sounds good," she said.

"Does it?" Brittany asked, keeping her voice light and baiting. "I don't know how I'll decide between the two."

Santana clenched her fists, wondering how long she'd be able to tolerate Brittany's game. She loved when Brittany teased, but she also knew the combination of Brittany's teasing and her hunger tended to have disastrous results. So she caved. "Britt," she said, her words drier than she realized, "I'm really hungry."

Brittany's smile turned genuine instead of teasing. "You didn't touch your blood at dinner." She drew closer to Santana, knowing she needed to tread lightly, even though she believed Santana wouldn't hurt her. She wrapped her arms around Santana's neck and played with her hair, studying Santana's skin, caressing her with her eyes and trying to calm her.

Santana swallowed, Brittany's enveloping scent overwhelming her and testing her patience. "I know," she said, trying to hold herself still so she didn't dive into Brittany, biting her before she was prepared. "I guess other people's blood doesn't really... seem... appealing..." She trailed off, distracted by the way Brittany had tilted her head, the gentle throb of her carotid artery distracting her and making her mouth water. Her fangs pricked out and she groaned. She was proud of her self-control as she gasped. "Britt, I want to fuck you in the back of the Rolls. Right now."

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh," Santana gasped, clutching her hands into fists. "Got a key?"

Brittany let out a hot breath, keeping her head tilted. "It's unlocked."

Santana surged, picking Brittany up, flinging the back door of the Rolls open and pushing Brittany across the seat, making sure she wouldn't hit her head on the opposite door.

"Fuck, you look so sexy tonight," Santana gasped, already on top of her, clawing off her own dress.

Brittany giggled in delight as Santana's frenzy.

Santana pulled off Brittany's top and bra, flinging them into the front seat. "I'm sorry, but you're teasing me and I'm hungry, which is a dangerous combination, and I can't-"

Brittany cut off her desperate rambling with a hot kiss, fingers digging into Santana's hair and holding her hard against her mouth.

"Trust me," Brittany gasped in between kisses, "you are equally-" Kiss, "irresistible."

Santana lost all self-restraint and she hiked Brittany's skirt up between them, yanking her panties down to her knees.

"Please," Santana gasped, her mouth hot against Brittany's ear, "Please tell me I can feed."

Brittany tilted her chin toward the front of the cabin, closing her eyes and smiling. At the first flickering pulse in the pink flesh, Santana licked a quick, hot stripe up Brittany's neck before plunging her fangs into Brittany's skin, right above the bite marks she had left a few weeks before. She had grown to love those bite marks, even though she thought they were trashy on other humans. With Brittany, they were a reminder that Brittany was hers and only hers. No other fangs had ever pierced her flesh, and Santana hoped, with reckless abandon, none ever would.

Brittany's body seized as Santana began to suck, her panting and moaning crescendoing as blood started seeping into Santana's mouth, trickling down her throat. Every time Santana fed, it tasted better. She supposed it was because she cared about Brittany more every time.

Brittany started gasping out words as Santana sucked. "Touch me," she begged, "Please, Santana... I'm so wet for you..."

Santana gasped against her neck and stuck her hand between Brittany's legs, finding it was slicker than usual. Brittany was just as turned on by having sex in the back of a luxury car as she was.

"Fuck, you are," Santana breathed, rocking against Brittany's thigh. "Wetter than you've ever been."

Brittany was writhing and her hands were clumsy as she tugged at the sides of Santana's panties. "Let me feel you," she panted. "Want to feel how wet I make you..."

Santana lifted her hips long enough to maneuver her panties off, letting them fall to the floor of the cabin. She ground down against Brittany's thigh, letting her juices smear there, satisfied with the loud moan Brittany let out in response.

Santana snaked her hand between Brittany's legs again. As she slid her fingers into Brittany's slick folds, she remembered why she had resisted this at first. It was divine, and she didn't know if she'd be able to stop herself from hurting the girl. She slid her fingers inside, moaning at the heat and wetness, and started pulsing into her with vampire speed. As she did, she was shocked to feel Brittany pushing her up enough to fit her fingers inside Santana's sex, trying to keep pace, and doing a good job of it.

Brittany writhed with pleasure beneath her, gasping out and moaning as Santana sucked from her neck, taking breaks to lick her ear and suck her nipples. Brittany broke a sweat quickly, the effort she was putting forth to please Santana tiring her, despite her stamina. Santana had to admire her for it; not many humans could keep up with a vampire.

When Brittany started to slow her movements, her moans turning to whimpers as her legs stiffened against Santana's, Santana knew she was almost there and she should stop feeding so she didn't deplete her. She reluctantly pulled her lips away from Brittany's neck and kissed her, speeding up her hand as Brittany moaned in surprise into her mouth, eyebrows arching at the surge of effort. After a moment Brittany had to pull away to breathe, and she looked at Santana with wide, enthralled eyes. She let out several successive little pants, little _ah! ah! ah!_s as she climbed higher. Then her spine curved and she clutched at Santana's back, nails digging in as she cried out her release. Santana kept going, determined to please Brittany as much as she could, thrusting her hips against Brittany in rhythm.

After a minute Brittany went limp, but regained animation quickly. She grabbed at Santana's back again, whispering _I'm gonna come again!_ in tiny, spring-loaded words, and put forth a burst of effort pumping her hand into Santana. The motion pushed Santana's release closer, and she gasped out as Brittany squeezed her eyes closed, determined to hold off until Santana came.

Santana was closer than she realized, because when Brittany lifted her head up and ran her tongue over Santana's ear, scratching down her back as she did, Santana's hips lurched forward, pushing Brittany's fingers deep inside her and thrusting them forward so their heads hit the door in front of them, coming together. Brittany squealed and seized as Santana pressed in.

Santana rocked forward a few times, coming down from her climax as Brittany shivered and nipped at Santana's ear. Finally they both exhaled, then began panting in gradually slowing rhythm with each other. They lay pressed together, sweaty and sated and happy, for minutes.

Finally Santana pulled her head back and gave Brittany a satisfied, lopsided grin. Knowing it would make Brittany's afterglow even better, she bit her wrist and held it to Brittany's mouth, letting her suck for a few seconds before she tucked her hand under Brittany's back again, resting her head on Brittany's chest.

"We didn't even use the silver," Brittany hummed, as an afterthought.

"I was too impatient, with you teasing me like that."

Brittany giggled, running her hand through Santana's hair.

"Was I too rough?" Santana asked, worried as always.

"You were perfect," Brittany assured.

Santana snuggled closer, relieved. These moments after sex with Brittany were the most calm for her, because she knew she would be safe for at a least a few minutes, since her appetites had been filled.

"Is it different with vampires?" Brittany asked.

Santana tilted her head up, resting her chin between Brittany's breasts. "Is what different?"

"Sex."

"Well, yeah," Santana said, shrugging as if it were obvious.

Brittany bit her lip, holding back her questions.

"Not better or worse different. Just... I don't really know," Santana said, not wanting to tell Brittany that she worried so much about hurting her or draining her. But aside from those worries, which weren't confined to sex alone, Santana couldn't think of anything about having sleeping with fellow vampires that was superior to what she had with Brittany.

Brittany nodded. After a moment she shifted under Santana and Santana realized she had pinned her to the seat at an uncomfortable angle. She sat up, freeing Brittany and pulling her hair back into a bun.

She looked around at the spotless, smooth interior of the car. She hadn't gotten a good look yet, since she'd been preoccupied with Brittany, naked and panting beneath her. But now as she looked around, she felt guilty for having sex in Mr. Pierce's car, like she had somehow tarnished it with her deadness and her constant craving for blood and sex.

Brittany sat up and reached into the front seat to gather their clothes. Santana bent down to pick up her panties, and as she cast a stealthy look beside her to check out Brittany's behind, she gasped.

There were three drops of blood soaking into the leather.

"Britt!" she said, flushing cold. "We got blood on your dad's car!"

Brittany looked beside her and cringed, but quickly tried to change her expression. "That's- that's okay," she stammered. Before Santana could stop her, she reached down and tried to rub the blood off with her fingers.

"Don't!" Santana gasped, knowing Brittany was making it worse.

Brittany looked startled when she pulled her hand back and saw that there was a significant red streak across the seat now. "Shit," she muttered. "Um, I can have the housekeeper try to get it out."

Santana started to panic more. "Britt, blood is almost impossible to get out of leather!"

Brittany gave her a strained, apologetic smile, all stiff lips and teeth. "Sorry," she said, looking embarrassed.

Santana put her head in her hands. She knew there was a reason her gut had told her not to have sex in the back of Brittany's dad's car. She was angry at herself for letting Brittany persuade her.

"I'll take care of it tomorrow night when you're at your chapter meeting," she mumbled. "I'll take it to the cleaners."

Brittany nodded, but then her eyes went wide. "Actually... you can't do that."

Santana lifted her head. "Why not?"

Brittany squirmed a little bit as she pulled her panties up. "My, um... my parents are coming home tomorrow," she said, words rushed and awkward. "I don't think they want anyone around. I'm going to stay in the dorms for a night or two."

Santana tried not to panic, thinking about what kind of trouble Brittany would be in if her dad saw the blood in his precious car. She swallowed. "Oh." She realized that also meant that she wouldn't be able to sleep next to Brittany for a few days, unless Brittany came to her house.

"They'll only be here a few days," Brittany said. "And dad hardly ever takes the car out. I'm sure he won't notice." Her casualness seemed forced as she tugged on her shirt. "Wait, what am I doing?" she said, looking down at her shirt. "We don't need clothes!" she turned to Santana, forced cheer in her face as she pressed their lips together.

Santana stayed stiff until Brittany pulled away and patted her thigh. "Let's go up to my room."

Santana gave her a faint nod and scooted out of the backseat, holding the door as Brittany climbed out too. She scanned the interior for stray articles of clothing, giving the blood smear one last look before shutting the door and following Brittany upstairs.


	9. Tender Through the Night

**A/N: So this might be the strangest chapter so far, but it's one of my favorites. Give it a chance, I promise it's not that weird. It's also the calm before the storm, so enjoy it while it lasts.**

* * *

When they got upstairs, Santana lay Brittany on the bed with utmost care. Caring for her fragile human girlfriend - she loved that word now- helped allay some of her anxiety over the stain in the backseat of the car. She proceeded to straddle Brittany as she lay on her stomach, kneading over Brittany's skin where she knew the muscles were, cherishing every bit of precious flesh. As she worshipped Brittany's body, Brittany smiled, intrigued by Santana's lavishing attention on her.

"Is it weird?" she asked.

"Is what weird?"

"Being with a human."

Santana gave Brittany a pitiful, loving look, trying to tell Brittany not to be so self-conscious of her mortality. "Never," Santana said. "It's wonderful."

Brittany smiled, closing her eyes as Santana drew her strong hands over Brittany's shoulders, working through her muscles, rendering her even more relaxed than her typical post-orgasm haze.

Santana had come to adore Brittany's mortality. She loved everything about the fact that Brittany was human: her pulse, her warmth, her fragility, and her suppleness. And although it pained her to see Brittany with any kind of injury - especially if she had inflicted it - she loved being able to heal Brittany. She felt special and important and gentler than she thought herself capable of. Santana realized she had never told Brittany any of that.

"I love that you're human," she murmured.

Brittany gave her a hesitant smile, quiet for a moment before she said, "You never wish I was a vampire?"

Santana's hands stopped abruptly. Why would Brittany even think of something like that? Vampires were harsh and vicious and cold.

"Never," Santana said with absolute certainty. She had honestly never thought about what their relationship would be like if Brittany weren't human. Even though Brittany's mortality posed challenges and caused Santana anxiety for Brittany's safety, Santana wouldn't entertain the idea of any other situation.

"I think about it," Brittany admitted.

Santana felt herself shiver. "No, Britt," she said, her words low and cold. "Don't think about that."

Brittany said nothing, but Santana could see by the way her eyes moved around that she was thinking.

"You're perfect the way you are," Santana said, trying to distract Brittany from whatever she was thinking.

"Don't you mean I'm _delicious_ the way I am?" Brittany said with a playful smile, trying to lighten the mood and soothe Santana.

Santana gave her a forced smile. "Well, yeah. But that's not the only thing I like about you being human."

Brittany rolled onto her back and smiled up at Santana. "Yeah?"

Santana gave her a solemn nod. "I love how you're so warm and soft. And how you sleep so sweetly and breathe onto my shoulder as you do. I love watching you eat... And sometimes I have dreams about how beautiful you look in the sun. Your hair shining and your skin glowing, your freckles showing in the bright light..."

Santana didn't realize until she spoke of it how sad she was that she would never see that part of Brittany's beauty. "I bet you're even more radiant," she breathed.

Brittany gave her a sad smile. "Santana..." she murmured, as though apologizing for the fact that Santana could never see her in the sun.

Santana shook her head, leaning down to kiss Brittany, keeping her from saying anything negative about being human. Santana loved being with her as a human, and didn't want anything to change.

* * *

The days that followed were the longest Santana had ever experienced. Brittany's parents were home, which meant Santana had to sleep in her own coffin and could only talk to Brittany on the phone. Not being able to sleep next to her and not having a chance to feed from her took a toll. She was short tempered and moody and cursed at Quinn for wearing a shirt that reminded her of one of Brittany's.

She was relieved to wake up one evening to a text from Brittany asking if she wanted to have go out to dinner. Santana grinned and pulled on a nice dress before zooming over to Brittany's house.

But when Brittany climbed in the passenger's seat, there was something weary and unsettled about her. It wasn't just tiredness, it ran deeper and vibrated wider.

"Hey," Santana said, her voice low as she studied Brittany's face for clues. "You okay?"

Brittany nodded, not meeting her eyes. "Just feeling a little off."

Santana pursed her lips. She didn't know what that meant. She tried not to be obvious as she smelled Brittany to see if that would give her clues. Brittany smelled a little different. Not bad different. Just more ripe.

"Oh... um..." Brittany looked around, avoiding Santana's gaze. "That's embarrassing."

"What's embarrassing?"

Brittany squirmed a little. "Well... do vampires, like..." she trailed off, tucking her chin down. "Nevermind."

"What is it?" Santana asked, keeping her words gentle to encourage Brittany to speak whatever was on her mind.

"It's almost that time of the month," Brittany mumbled.

No wonder Brittany was tired and smelled different. Santana was relieved it wasn't something serious.

Santana didn't want Brittany to be ashamed of something her body did on its own. Brittany's body was beautiful and alive and could do so many things Santana's couldn't.

"Some vampires like it," Santana said, answering the question despite Brittany's embarrassment. "But only if they like the taste of the feelings that go with it."

"Really?"

Santana nodded. "Just like blood types, feelings have flavors that some vampires prefer over others. If they like tasting pain and discomfort, then they like the taste of period blood."

Brittany bit her lips and nodded, contemplative despite her embarrassment. She flushed pink as she asked. "Do you like it?"

Santana took Brittany's hand, not wanting her to be embarrassed. "I don't like anything that makes you feel sad or in pain," she said. "So no."

Brittany nodded, looking relieved. "I don't know why I didn't think about that until now."

Santana shrugged. She hadn't had a period in fifty years - one of the bigger perks of being a vampire - but she hadn't forgotten how uncomfortable it was. Back when she was a teen, there had been fewer options for managing pain, and she'd often been confined to her bed with a hot water bottle pressed to her stomach.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of you," she said with a gentle smile, stroking Brittany's hand. "We can watch movies and I'll feed you pieces of chocolate."

Brittany gave her a thankful smile. "That sounds nice," she said in a quiet voice.

Santana squeezed Brittany's hand and pulled away from the curb, taking Brittany to her favorite restaurant.

* * *

The following night, Santana arrived at Brittany's house prepared. Tonight wasn't about sex or feeding. Tonight was about taking care of her fragile, beautiful, human girlfriend while she felt uncomfortable and vulnerable. Santana was determined to do the best she could, given her limited knowledge of how human bodies worked. She had googled a few things and put together a care package for Brittany.

She walked up the stairs, feet barely touching the floor, and gently knocked on Brittany's door. She heard a sleepy response from within, and could feel the sleep in the air through the door. She could smell Brittany's ripeness and feel her sadness and discomfort. It made her feel like she was crumpling on the inside too.

Santana opened the door, being careful to move slowly and gently. She wanted to be a good caretaker.

"Hey, sweetheart," Santana said, her voice low and soothing. "How are you feeling?"

"M'okay," Brittany mumbled, rubbing her eyes. She had obviously been asleep.

"Did I wake you up?" Santana asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"No," Brittany said, stretching a bit before contracting again. As she did, Santana felt a pang low in her stomach, an echo of the cramps she had once felt as as teenager.

"Aw... sweetie," Santana said, stooping to brush the hair off Brittany's clammy forehead. "I'm sorry you don't feel good."

Brittany looked up at her with miserable puppy dog eyes. She studied Santana for a moment and then asked, "Can you feel it too?"

Not wanting to lie, Santana nodded. "A little bit. But not as intense as you."

Brittany let out a heavy sigh. "My cramps have always been really bad..."

Everything about her seemed heavy and sad and broke Santana's heart. She could smell Brittany's blood, but it didn't smell beautiful and light like it usually did. It just smelled like hurt.

"I brought you stuff to make you feel better," Santana said, setting her bag down next to the bed.

Brittany said nothing, but gave Santana lackluster smile.

"First and most important: brownies," Santana said, producing a tinfoil-wrapped package. "I had one of my blood sources make them for me. He thought I wanted special brownies though, so I made him make a second batch."

"Special brownies would have been fun," Brittany said, eyebrow quirking.

Santana giggled through her nose. "Maybe for you. But I can't eat them."

"Oh yeah..." Brittany said. Once again, Brittany had forgotten Santana couldn't eat food. "So you can't smoke pot? Like, ever?

"I can smoke it," Santana said. "It just doesn't do anything. But if I soak a little fairy blood in it..."

Brittany giggled. "Awesome."

"Second most important," Santana said, producing a few DVDs. "I brought movies. All my favorites from when I was growing up, plus some recent movie about a floating house and a bunch of balloons."

"_Up_?"

Santana glanced at the cover. "Yeah."

"You haven't seen _Up_?" Brittany pouted.

"I don't keep up with movies anymore," Santana said. "They don't make them like they did when I was young."

"We should watch _Up_. You'll like it."

Santana nodded, not even thinking of the movies she'd wanted to introduce Brittany to.

"I brought you painkillers too," Santana said, rooting into the bottom of her bag and producing four plastic bottles, all of which were still sealed. "I didn't know if you had a favorite kind. You shouldn't take anything that will thin your blood, though, since I've been drinking from you so much lately. It'll make you dizzy."

"I'm already dizzy," Brittany mumbled.

Santana looked at her, concerned. She remembered being dizzy when she had her period as a human, but she was sure Brittany's dizziness was exacerbated by being depleted. "Is it worse than usual?"

Brittany gave Santana a playful smile. "Definitely worse."

Santana started to feel ill, worrying she'd been too selfish with Brittany. "Do you need to go to the doctor? Quinn's a vampire doctor, but she knows a lot about humans."

Brittany let out a sleepy giggle. "It's a good dizziness."

Santana frowned, confused. She couldn't recall ever feeling "good" dizzy in her life or death.

"I'm dizzy because of you," Brittany said.

Santana was about to curse herself for overfeeding when Brittany added, "Dizzy because you're so beautiful and sweet to me. It makes me feel like I've been spinning in one of those giant teacups but I never want to get off the ride."

Santana calmed, flushing warm from head to toe at Brittany's compliment.

"I never want to get off the ride either," she murmured.

She stared into Brittany's eyes, seeing how calm and warm she was despite being in pain. Santana leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Brittany's lips. She stroked Brittany's cheek for a moment before she let her fingers wander into Brittany's hair, combing over her ear and down to her shoulder and collarbone. "You are _so_ beautiful," she whispered, not realizing she was saying it out loud.

"So are you," Brittany murmured. "Crazy beautiful."

Santana sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she would never understand why Brittany wanted her. Brittany could have anyone she wanted, and she'd chosen a moody, temperamental dead girl. Some things in the world didn't make sense.

"I know what painkiller I want," Brittany said, eyes fixed on Santana as she stilled Santana's hand that was still combing through her hair.

Santana looked up to where she had arranged the pill bottles on Brittany's bedside table.

"Yeah?" she said, straightening up as she prepared to go into nurse mode.

"Yeah," Brittany said, eyes still fixated on Santana.

Santana focused on the bottles, examining the labels. It wasn't for a few moments that she realized Brittany was rubbing her wrist with her thumb and had a coy smile on her face.

Santana was surprised, but flattered when she realized Brittany was asking for her blood.

"Oh - you want-?"

"Only if you feel like it," Brittany said. "I'm not using you for your blood."

"Oh, I- I know," Santana said, still stumbling over her words. "Of course you can have some. I just - I didn't think of that."

Brittany gave her a calm smile.

"Want anything to go with it?" Santana said.

"I'll have one of those brownies," Brittany said, wiggling her eyebrows. "Though I'm a little sad they're not special."

Santana unwrapped the foil and took out a gooey, crumbling brownie that was still warm from the human's oven.

"Mmm," Brittany hummed when she smelled it.

Santana held the brownie to Brittany's lips. Brittany closed her eyes as she opened her mouth, taking the first bite of the rich chocolate morsel. She chewed with her eyes closed, savoring the taste, and as Santana watched her, she could taste it too, warm and rich in her mouth, then sliding down her throat. It was like taking her first bite of chocolate in fifty years. She let out a soft groan and Brittany's eyes opened.

"You can taste it, can't you?" she asked.

Santana nodded, not wanting to open her mouth for fear the taste would fly out and she would have to go another fifty years without it.

Brittany ate the rest of the brownie slowly, chewing each piece well and watching as Santana experienced it with her. It was the most sensual thing they had ever done with their clothes on. Even though somewhere in the back of Santana's mind she knew it was strange to be having such an intimate moment over a baked good, as she looked at Brittany eating, it felt like the most normal thing in the world.

She felt like a normal girl, falling in love with another girl.

That's what they were doing, wan't it? They were falling in love. Spending every waking minute together, giggling over nothing, forgetting about classes and all the unpleasantries of their lives. It was downright irresponsible, and if any of the vampires who knew Santana found out how bad she had it for Brittany, they would declare she was ill or crazy or both. But Santana didn't care.

Love, Santana decided, was the best sickness she had ever encountered.

When Brittany was done, she smiled up at Santana. Santana didn't take her eyes off of her as she raised her wrist to her mouth, releasing her fangs just long enough to poke two small holes in her wrist, tucking them away again as she lowered her wrist to Brittany's mouth. Brittany sucked slowly, grateful and warm with the gift Santana was giving her. As the blood slipped into her stomach, Santana felt her own stomach relax, the crumpling that had seized her upon entering the room smoothing itself out. She watched Brittany's body loosen, soothed by her blood. If she hadn't known it would kill Brittany, she would have let Brittany drain her just to see her so relaxed and happy.

As Santana drew her wrist away, staring into Brittany's dilated eyes, she heard herself murmur, "I love you."

Brittany's eyes shone and her blood-stained mouth spread in an elated yet peaceful grin. She swallowed one last time and said, "I love you too."

Only then did Santana realize what she had said. But Brittany had said it back, so there was no need to get anxious. She had bared herself and been given the same in return. All she wanted to do was lower her head to kiss Brittany, a soft, gentle kiss to seal the words into Brittany. So she did.

She loved Brittany.

And for some strange reason, Brittany loved her too.


	10. Sealed

**A/N: I'm so happy to be able to post this, because the super exciting stuff is coming up, which will energize me to write more. I just love this 'verse because I can do so much with so many characters. **

**Unbeta'd. Enjoy!**

* * *

Santana and Brittany hardly left each other's sight for the next week. Brittany had the brilliant idea to have groceries, including synthetic blood, delivered to her house, so they had no reason to leave. They made love and held each other in Brittany's bed all night, and in the root cellar all day, parting only when Brittany went to her classes and meetings.

When the weekend came, Santana was positively hazy, drunk off so much of Brittany's blood and love and attention. She was certain Brittany was the best thing that had ever happened to her, alive or dead. She would die a hundred times willingly if she knew that after those hundred deaths, she would get to spend a day with Brittany. Brittany was all the warmth of sunshine, the intimacy of night, the nourishment of food, and the satisfaction of sex. She was, at this point, essential to Santana's existence.

When the sun set while Brittany was at a chapter meeting, Santana lugged herself up the stairs and fell into Brittany's bed, loving how Brittany's scent mushroomed around her, enveloping her in calm and fueling her lust as it rocked her to sleep.

Whenever Santana slept in Brittany's bed, she had dreams. She never dreamt when she slept in the ground. It was strange to have dreams after fifty years. The first time she'd had a dream, she was convinced she and Brittany were really in a hot air balloon and it was daytime and they were happy, looking down at the houses below, deciding which one they wanted to live in. Her skin hadn't burned in the sun and she hadn't been afraid. Being in the light and air with Brittany felt normal and euphoric. When she had woken up, she was disappointed to discover it was just a dream, and she hadn't really seen Brittany's grin as they lifted off the grass in the basket in the light of day.

Tonight, she dreamt they were in the air again. Only this time, they were flying above a forest, holding hands.

"Look!" Brittany said, pointing down to some trees. "That's where I'm going to die!"

In the dream, Santana chilled, wishing they could stop flying and put their feet on the ground. But she was pulled along, powerless. All she could do was squeeze Brittany's hand and say, "No, Britt. You're not going to die." It didn't make sense, of course; if Brittany was mortal, she would eventually die a natural death, and if she were a vampire, she would have to die to be turned.

Brittany giggled, as though she were giddy at the prospect of dying.

"Of course I am, silly."

She was quiet for a moment as the wind swept over their bodies, the trees blurry below them as they soared. But what Brittany said next made Santana's body go rigid, even in her sleep.

"Quinn's going to do it."

Santana started screaming, thrashing around in Brittany's bed as though the sheets were trying to strangle her. She screamed so loud she woke herself up. When she opened her eyes, she was already sitting, having knocked a pillow off the bed.

Brittany stood in the doorway, eyes wide with alarm. She must have just walked in, because her backpack was still slung over her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Brittany gasped, frozen.

Santana felt adrenaline stream through her muscles as she exhaled, relieved it was just a dream. She held her hands to her cheeks and took in the sight of Brittany standing in front of her, alive, human, and not at all excited about dying. The only emotion she could feel from Brittany was concern.

Santana was panting, chest heaving as she tried to sink back into the comfort of Brittany's bed. Brittany rushed to her side, murmuring comfort into her skin.

"Baby, what _happened_?" she asked.

Santana couldn't bear to tell Brittany what Brittany had said in her dream, so she swallowed, throat dry and sticky as her fingers found Brittany's pulse, taking comfort in its steady beating.

"Bad dream," she mumbled as relief washed over her pulse by pulse.

It was the quickest soothing she'd ever experienced. As Brittany pressed their bodies together, letting Santana keep her fingers on her pulse, Santana felt her muscles go soft again. As she nuzzled into Brittany's neck, she felt the raw wetness of Brittany's fresh bite marks on the side opposite her fingers. She wondered if Brittany had garnered any attention for the evidence of their relationship at her meeting.

"How was your meeting?" Santana asked.

"Good," Brittany said quietly into Santana's hair.

"Did anyone say anything about…" She didn't finish her sentence, just nuzzled underneath Brittany's bite marks.

"They asked. They want you to come to our spring mixer next week."

Santana felt her body tense, but she was so close and bonded with Brittany, it was harder for her body to get worked up when Brittany was calm and happy. The feeling lurched inside her before dying, replaced by calm. "Really?" she asked.

"Uh huh. I told them how special you are to me and they want to meet you."

Santana was uncertain. She had never gone to a sorority event before, and she knew she'd feel out of place, not only because she wasn't a member, but because she would be the only vampire, and probably the only significant other that was female. But she didn't want to talk about any of that now, so she changed the subject. "What did you do in your meeting?"

Brittany took the diversion in stride. "We put together our service project schedule for the rest of the semester."

Santana hummed into Brittany's neck. "Who are you servicing?" she asked, unable to resist the opportunity for innuendo.

Brittany giggled, soft against her head. "Only you, baby."

Santana pulled back a few inches, murmuring, "Good," before rolling Brittany onto the bed, smothering her with kisses, hands tangling in her hair and arms caressing her skin as Brittany undressed herself. Being with Brittany meant that at any moment, an overwhelming feeling of lust or protectiveness or joy might wash over them. It was exhausting, but it was also exhilarating, since they experienced it together.

Their kisses grew more urgent, Brittany humming and gasping into Santana's mouth as their legs moved in the sheets, whispering together like a secret they were going to keep for the rest of their existence. Santana felt, however influenced by the haze of blood and sex, like she never wanted to leave the bed or Brittany's side again.

They rolled and tussled with each other, hair tangling with their lips as they kissed passionately, wrestling each other into a frenzy of desire. Brittany was more forceful than usual, tugging at Santana's hair and biting her shoulders and ears. Santana loved every second of it. Before she knew it, they were both reeling, tumbling over the edge in what could have been their fifth or fiftieth orgasm of the day.

Afterwards they lay panting in a mess of sheets and mussed hair and Brittany's sweat. Santana felt thoroughly sated, but a strange pinching echoed in her stomach. She realized that Brittany was hungry. Over the past few weeks, their bond had gotten so strong, Santana had started sensing when Brittany was hungry, even knowing what she wanted to eat sometimes. Without saying anything to Brittany, Santana flipped open her phone, ordering a pizza. Brittany grinned and nuzzled into her shoulder, mumbling, "Thank you."

They kissed and caressed each other until Santana heard tires crunching on the gravel outside. Santana slipped on her robe and flew down the stairs, taking the delivery boy by surprise as she opened the door, paid for the food with a generous tip, and shut the door abruptly.

"I love when you do that," Brittany said with a girlish smile when Santana came back into the bedroom.

"Do what?" Santana asked.

"When you vamp out like that," she said. "I watched the clock. You were only gone ten seconds."

Santana gave her a playful look in return. "You like that, huh?" she teased.

Brittany grinned wider.

"You like when I catch you before you realize you're falling?"

Brittany's smile turned tender. "I always knew I was falling for you, sweetheart," she murmured.

Santana could have sworn her heart fluttered at Brittany's declaration. She gazed at her in adoration as she set the pizza on the bed.

"Always, huh?"

Brittany nodded, leaning forward and taking Santana's chin in her hand. "Always."

Santana let herself be pulled into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Brittany for the thousandth time in the last hour. They kissed deeply and Santana tried to think of something sweet to say in return, but all she could hear in her mind was _always, always, always. _

"I don't like when you have to go to class and meetings," Santana admitted. "I always want to be with you," she said, drawing back to look in Brittany's eyes.

Brittany smiled at her, but her smile turned sad. It was the same smile she'd had the other night when they watched _Up!_, the same wistful look when she'd brought up her mortality - again - and Santana had avoided talking about it, bringing up every possible alternative topic. Anything to not have Brittany contemplate her mortality too much.

But Brittany was bringing it up again. "I can't be with you always if I'm human," she murmured.

Santana sighed. Brittany wouldn't let her change the subject this time, she knew. She could sense a stubbornness in Brittany.

"Britt..." she said, trying not to sound frustrated. She knew she needed to explain to Brittany why she was against Brittany becoming a vampire. "Remember when you were harassing me in the bar and you said you felt bad for me because you like being you and I don't like being me?"

Brittany's face grew sadder, but she nodded.

"Well... you were right. I don't like being me."

"Santana..." Brittany protested softly.

"No, just listen," Santana pleaded. "You made me realize that the things I don't like about myself are vampire things, like being cold and bloodthirsty and numb to other people's feelings."

"You're not numb-"

Santana put her finger to Brittany's lips. "I have to hurt people to survive. Over time, you realize that you're not a very good person if you have to do that. The hardest part is…" Santana paused, realizing exactly what had been so heartbreaking about being turned. "Before I was turned, I think I was a pretty nice girl."

Brittany's face fell with sorrow for Santana. "Santana," she murmured, as though her words could cushion Santana from her harsh opinion of herself. "You are _still_ a nice girl. The _nicest_. I promise."

Santana was starting to tear up, overwhelmed by her awful feelings about herself. She didn't want Brittany to think too much about her awfulness, but she had to tell Brittany how she felt. Brittany had opened her up and everything had come spilling out.

"But I _hurt_ people!" Santana blubbered, cursing the blood that sprung from her eyes instead of tears, reminding her of her cold immortality.

"Humans hurt people all the time," Brittany said earnestly, trying to normalize Santana's experience.

"Not the nice ones," Santana argued, eying Brittany's bite marks. "Nice people don't hurt anything or anyone."

Brittany let out a gentle scoff of disagreement. "Of course they do. I don't feel like a bad person for eating meat, even though I love animals. You watched me eat chicken last night and you don't see me crying about it."

Santana rolled her eyes in admission, but had to admit it was helping her feel a little better. But it was hard to liken a human – especially Brittany, with her fresh bite marks - to animals that were raised for consumption. She put her hand near the bite marks, her fingers apologetic as she stroked around the wound.

"You're not a chicken," she mumbled.

Brittany let out a soft giggle. "I bet I'd look cute with feathers though."

Santana let out a gasping laugh, suddenly exhausted by her self-loathing. "You would."

Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana, seeming to rock her into calmness. "You are the sweetest girl in the world," she said, her voice sounding absentminded. "You knew I wanted pizza and ordered it for me before I even realized I was hungry." She gave Santana a squeeze. "I wouldn't love you so much if you weren't a good person."

Santana may have been stubborn in her self-loathing, but let Brittany coax her a little ways away from it. She was willing to admit that sometimes she did nice things for Brittany, and that, compared to other vampires, she was not as cruel in her feeding habits. But it was hard to change her opinion of herself entirely.

Brittany reached for the pizza box and pulled it towards herself, but then paused. She kept her hand on the box for a moment, staring at it before she looked up at Santana with deep, earnest eyes.

"I know it sounds crazy," she said, her voice lower than usual. "And I know we haven't known each other that long, but…"

Santana's body lifted with hope as Brittany let a nervous smile flit across her face. Brittany placed her hand on Santana's knee.

"I'm pretty sure you're it for me. I'm never going to want to be with anyone else. And I know I wouldn't feel that way if you weren't a good person."

Santana's body surged with joy at Brittany's confession. Her deep, hidden fear that she would be alone forever fell away. Brittany had expressed the vastness of the love she felt inside.

Brittany was it for her.

She never wanted to be with anyone else.

Knowing that, and hearing Brittany felt the same way, was transformative. Her idea of who she was and what she was capable of changed. She finally believed, if only for a moment, that she might be a good person after all.

* * *

Santana arrived home a few days later, glowing and happy and tired enough to sleep for three days straight.

"What are you doing with her, Santana?" Quinn asked, her words dripping with amused distaste.

Santana startled, but didn't look her in the eye. She hadn't seen Quinn standing in her kitchen when she unlocked her door.

Santana didn't want Quinn to know anything about Brittany. Brittany was sacred, as was the bond they had. Quinn was ruthless and possessive and Santana didn't want to risk her tarnishing the one perfect thing in her life.

"Same thing you're doing with your little gang of blood sacks," she quipped back. As soon as she said it, she felt horrible for pretending Brittany was just a meal ticket and decided not to use any more derogatory words for her. She loved her too much. "I'm just making sure I don't get sloppy," she added.

"Bullshit," Quinn said with a haunting laugh. "I don't sleep in the ground at my meals' houses, and I don't take them out to dinner. I don't buy them jewelry and I never have sex without feeding."

"What's it to you?" Santana snapped. "Why do you care who I sleep with?"

"I don't care who you fuck, Santana," Quinn sighed. "You know that."

"I don't care who you fuck either," Santana tossed back. "So stay out of it."

Quinn gave Santana a one-shouldered shrug and raised her eyebrow. "I'd stay out of it if I didn't know that little fangbanger was up to something."

Santana flared. "Don't call her that!" she yelled, turning on Quinn.

Quinn laughed into their height difference, a shallow, demeaning laugh she often saved for her meals. "I'll call her whatever I want, Santana."

Reprimanded but still angry, Santana tried to control herself. "Just- please don't call Brittany names."

"Aww, our baby vampire's gone and fallen for that little fangbanger's tricks," Quinn said with an infuriating chuckle.

"She's _not_ a fangbanger," Santana growled.

"Is that so?" Quinn said with an amused expression. "Well then. Next time you see her, why don't you ask her about her father and why he's never home."

Santana was confused, but didn't want to play into Quinn's game. "No."

"Santana..."

"Quinn, _don't_."

There was a pause.

"Santana, as your Maker, I command you to ask Brittany who her father is next time you see her."

"Quinn!" Santana yelled in exasperation.

Quinn said nothing, just turned and disappeared into the night.

Santana slammed her fist down onto the counter, leaving a hairline crack in it. She hated when Quinn got like this. More than anything, she wanted to protect Brittany, and giving Quinn any kind of information about her wouldn't help.

Fearing she had jeopardized the one good thing in her life, she retreated to the basement, sealing herself in her coffin until dusk.


	11. Mata Hari

The following evening, Santana made her way to Brittany's house later than usual. She had awoken to several texts from Quinn, commanding her to stop by a few houses and glamour people. It was a task Santana hated. She avoided glamouring at all costs. Further fueling her hatred for Quinn was the fact that Quinn was one of the most skilled glamourers in their jurisdiction, so there was no reason for her to make Santana do it other than to remind Santana of her place.

When she arrived to pick Brittany up, she could see Brittany's light on. She called her phone and listened as Brittany answered, tripping around her room as she put on her shoes and changed her earrings. She flew down the stairs, skipping the last one entirely before she bounded out into the night and slid into Santana's car, immediately wrapping her arms around Santana and kissing her silly.

"Hey beautiful," she chirped. "You're late."

Brittany's mere presence warmed Santana. She didn't feel as irritated anymore. "Sorry. Quinn had some bullshit she wanted me to do."

Brittany gave her an exaggerated pout.

"Careful with that thing," Santana said, tapping Brittany's extended lower lip before kissing it. "It's deadly."

"Want me to use it on Quinn?" Brittany offered. "I could get her to leave you alone and clean up her own messes."

Santana smiled at the offer, however impossible. "I don't think Quinn has enough of a heart for that to work on her."

"She must have given all of hers to you, then. You have more heart than most humans."

Santana was quiet for a moment, bewildered how Brittany could think so highly of her cold permanence.

"Where are we going?" Brittany asked, giddy at Santana's mere presence.

Santana smiled and told her she was taking her to a fancy restaurant in town.

"Remember," she said, giving Brittany a playful wink. "No garlic."

Over dinner, Brittany turned to Santana with a sly smile. "I was thinking..." she said, "we should go somewhere."

"Your bed?"

"Always," Brittany smiled. "But I was thinking, like, a vacation. Somewhere beautiful where it's dark most of the time. Are there places like that?"

"Lots. The Northernmost part of Sweden is dark twenty-four hours a day in January."

"Oh, cool! I bet it's cold though."

"Very."

"What's it like there? Do they have lots of good cheese?"

Santana looked up at Brittany with an amused smile. "I've never been."

"Oh... I just assumed, since it's dark all the time, you'd want to go..."

Santana adored Brittany for her cheerfulness. It made everything seem simpler. "Quinn goes every few years. She keeps threatening to take me."

"You should go!' Brittany cheered. "Maybe it would be fun since you wouldn't have to sleep so much."

"Yeah, but there's so much ice and snow, which is a total drag and messes up my hair no matter what I do."

Brittany nodded, looking pensive. "I'd fit right in in Sweden, huh?"

Santana looked at Brittany's corn silk hair and cornflower eyes and nodded. "Definitely."

"We should go."

Santana loved the idea, but was cautious about Brittany's uninformed sense of adventure. "Do you know anything about Sweden besides that it's cold and dark most of the time?"

Brittany paused. "No... Not really."

Santana tried not to laugh. "Britt, we can go anywhere, as long as they have a vamp-friendly hotel. It doesn't have to be on the other side of the world."

Brittany smiled at Santana's offer to go on a trip. "When and where?"

"You choose."

"How about... Paris?"

Santana perked up. "I'm listening."

"It's a very romantic city. We can go out all night drinking wine and stay in a vamp-friendly hotel making love all day."

Santana felt her insides soften like warm butter at Brittany's suggestion.

"Do you speak French?" Brittany asked.

"A little."

Brittany's eyes widened in excitement. "How many languages do you speak?"

"Five."

"Five!" Brittany exclaimed. "Holy crap."

Santana smiled but rolled her eyes. "It was part of my 'education' with Quinn. She insisted a well educated vampire spoke several languages."

"So which are they?"

"English, Spanish, Portuguese, German, and Arabic."

Brittany got a conspiratorial look on her face and Santana knew she'd spend the next few days translating things so Brittany could hear the way they sounded. Normally she hated translating, for Quinn or her blood sources or anyone else. But with Brittany, she knew she would enjoy it, simply to see the look on Brittany's face as she listened the timbre of each word.

* * *

After dinner they went back to Brittany's house for what Brittany affectionately called 'dessert.' Brittany made Santana leave her bite marks fresh, as her old ones had sealed up and she loved the reminder of their love.

Love.

Brittany used that word like seasoning in every conversation they had. Their kisses were peppered with _I love you_s, their showers and naps marinating in them. Brittany used _I love you_ instead of _hello_ or _goodbye_ and as an explanation for most things she did. Santana reveled in it. It was as if all the love she hadn't experienced for the past fifty years had been stored up, and now she was inundated. It was bliss.

They made love like crazy, rolling and pushing and careening into each other as though it were an Olympic event. Brittany was a champion in Santana's mind, her sweat almost as delicious as her blood. They had shared so much blood over the past few weeks that Santana was sure they each held half of the other's, combined and mixed to perfection. They could read each other intimately, know the reason behind a nervous laugh or flirtatious giggle. They were perfectly harmonious. It felt too good to be true, though Santana was so drunk off Brittany's blood, she didn't question it. Brittany was simply hers, and she was Brittany's, and they were in love.

After their fifth round of lovemaking, Brittany lay gasping in the sheets next to Santana, a weary smile smeared across her face. Her eyes drooped closed in sated exhaustion. Santana felt her slipping into sleep when Brittany parted her lips and asked, "Santana, when's your birthday?"

Santana was almost startled by the question. "My birthday?"

Brittany nodded exhaling in an effort to still her rapidly moving chest.

"Which one?" Santana asked.

Brittany gave a delightfully adorable frown. "You have more than one?"

"Kind of. I have my belly button birthday, from my human mother. But vampires don't celebrate that."

"What do you celebrate?"

"We don't," Santana said. "Can you imagine how boring it would be going to so-and-so's three hundredth birthday party every other week?"

Brittany giggled. "I want to go to a three hundredth birthday party," she said. "That sounds amazing. Do they listen to songs from when they were young? Like harpsichord music and stuff?"

Santana giggled, knowing Brittany was imagining people in powdered wigs sitting primly around a mahogany keyboard, sipping wine and clapping politely between numbers. "I mean, I guess a few freaks do. But we don't really celebrate time passing like humans do."

Brittany gave Santana a little pout. "Ever?"

Santana gave a small, dismissive shrug. Then her expression grew annoyed. "Every year on my vamp birthday, Quinn gives me something. It's usually stupid, like a hairbrush or necklace."

"Aww... That's kind if sweet," Brittany said, looking sympathetic.

Santana rolled her eyes. "There's nothing sweet about Quinn."

Brittany looked out the window and then asked, timidly, "When do I get to meet Quinn? I mean, I know I met her at the club, but we didn't really talk. I want to know more about her. See why she's so confusing."

Santana's voice grew harder at the continued discussion of her Maker. "There's nothing confusing about Quinn. She likes power and blood and medicine and making me miserable."

"Yeah but she made _you,_ and-" Brittany stopped abruptly. "I'm sorry. I know you don't like to talk about it."

However correct Brittany was, Santana didn't like to think that anything she did or said caused Brittany to censor herself. "It's okay," she said, her voice soft again. "I don't mind talking about it with you."

Brittany smiled, gratefully. "Really?" Her voice had a child-like hopefulness to it that made Santana melt. "Why?"

Santana bent her head to brush their noses together, teasing her lips millimeters apart. "Because I love you," she whispered.

Brittany seemed to melt further into the bed, closing her eyes again and echoing, her voice soft like angel wings, "I love you too."

Santana kissed Brittany's lips, sincere and deep and with all the earnestness of her answer. Everything was different because she loved Brittany.

When the sun was a few minutes from the horizon, Santana sighed and sat up. "Almost dawn," she muttered. She hated this time if the day, her shameful exile to the shadows while Brittany could flourish in the light. Saying goodbye to Brittany was the cruelest reminder of her immortality.

Brittany whimpered, neck straining up to catch another kiss before Santana asked, "Am I staying here today?"

Brittany gave a gentle shake if her head. "Let's go to your place. I'll meet you there after my chem lab."

"Perfect," Santana said. "You can squeeze into my coffin if you like. I cleaned it out the other day when you were at your chapter meeting."

Brittany grinned. "I love your coffin," she said. "It's the coziest coffin I've ever been in."

Santana bent to place a kiss on each if Brittany's glowing cheeks. "And how many have you been in?"

Brittany gave her a guilty grin. "One."

Santana hummed a laugh into Brittany's lips. "Thought so."

Santana felt her body start to tingle with the warning of the sun in the horizon. "I gotta go, babe. See you in a bit."

She pulled on her clothes with vampire speed as Brittany slipped on a robe, not even bothering to tie it in the front

But when Santana reached the threshold of Brittany's room, her feet stuck to the ground, as if they were glued or held by the strongest magnet in the world. Santana jerked her legs, trying to get back to her house before the sun rose. But they were stuck fast on the doorstep.

"What's happening?" Brittany asked, observing Santana's struggle.

Santana started to panic, sensing the sun reaching the horizon quickly. "I don't know!" she exclaimed. "My feet won't move!"

Brittany watched her, worry mounting her face as well. "I know you can't come in my house if you're not invited, but what would keep you here when you're trying to leave?"

"I don't-"

Oh.

Santana knew exactly what was keeping her here. Quinn had given her an order she hadn't carried out yet. "Shit," she muttered. "Quinn."

"Why would Quinn want you to get burned?" Brittany asked, alarmed.

Santana let out a heavy sigh. "She doesn't. She just wants to remind me she can boss me around."

"What did she tell you to do?"

Santana looked around the house. She hated prying into Brittany's life for Quinn's sake. But she had to. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to. It's just a power play on Quinn's part."

"Answer what?" Brittany said, worry crossing her face.

"She wanted me to ask who your dad is and why he's never here."

Brittany paled. She squirmed where she stood in the center of her room, avoiding Santana's gaze. "Oh," she said. She tried to giggle but it sounded frightened.

Although Santana could feel her feet release from the floor, the nervous shift in Brittany made her linger on the doorstep. She wanted to know what had made Brittany so uncomfortable. Because of their bond, Santana felt uncomfortable too. If she could soothe Brittany, she'd feel better.

"I don't know why Quinn wants to know about your family. She's crazy. Don't worry about it."

Brittany nodded, gripping the sleeves of her sweatshirt into the balls of her fists as she kept squirming for a moment. Then she put her hands up to cover her face, hiding as she said in a tiny voice, "My dad is the chief financial officer for Fellowship of the Sun."

The world started to spin around Santana and she felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She reeled, stumbling out of Brittany's room as her eyes went wide in horror.

Brittany had just admitted that her father was one of the most powerful officials in the anti-vampire church.

"Fellowship of the Sun," Santana echoed. The words sounded dry and lifeless on her tongue.

Everything about Fellowship of the Sun was frightening: the people, their beliefs, and the things they did in the name of God.

"I'm sorry!" Brittany squeaked, cowering in fear as she retreated. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you! I was scared you would hate me or think I was trying to trap you, and I never, ever wanted to hurt you!"

Santana held up her hand, stopping Brittany's words as they tumbled out. She stared at Brittany, wondering who she was. The girl she thought she knew, the girl she thought she would love forever, appeared as though a stranger. It was so gutting, so horrifying, Santana felt as though Brittany herself had pulled out a stake and raised it to her breast.

Shaking her head in horror, Santana spun around and ran out of the house, flying past pictures of the people who hated her without reason. The very walls of the house seemed to mock her, as though they could fall and expose her to the sun at any given minute, reducing her to a pile of ashes.

This was why she didn't do first bites.

This was why she avoided fangbangers.

She was never going to see Brittany Pierce again.


	12. Iron and Lead

Santana had never felt so betrayed in her life. The person she loved most in the world had been keeping a huge, dangerous secret from her. She'd been manipulated and mocked and put in danger every time she'd been around Brittany. She should never have taken that stupid girl home from the bar. Humans were more deceptive than any creature she'd ever met. She never wanted to see a human again. She'd raid blood banks to avoid them.

When Santana got home, Quinn was waiting in the basement with her arms crossed.

"Fuck you," Santana muttered as she climbed into her coffin.

She was about to slam the lid shut, but Quinn caught it and held it open, gazing down at Santana with hard, demanding eyes.

"Don't talk to me like that," Quinn said, her words cool and flat.

Santana felt awkward lying in her coffin looking up at Quinn as she fumed, so she crossed her arms and avoided eye contact. She pursed her lips and waited for Quinn to speak.

"Do you see why I wanted you to ask her?"

Santana didn't move, silently screaming _fuck you fuck you fuck you_ in her head. She was furious at Quinn for bringing about the downfall of the first thing that had made her happy in fifty years.

"I see," Santana grunted.

Quinn tilted her head in a fake expression of sympathy. "I don't feel good about it. But you needed to know."

"Well now I know, and if you'll excuse me, I need my beauty sleep." Santana sat up and reached for the handle of her coffin, but Quinn held it open with a firm hand.

"Next time you see her, I hope you'll let her know she can't mess with vampires like that."

Santana scoffed. "There's not going to _be_ a next time."

Quinn let out a low chuckle. "Of course there will be. Tonight when you wake up, she'll be here."

"Over my dead body."

"If you like," Quinn said. "She does seem like a top."

Santana burned with anger. "I don't want to be around that stupid blood sack."

"That's too bad, because Finn feels it would be good for the cause if we had her around."

"Fuck Finn," Santana spat.

"Careful, Santana," Quinn said, her words warning. "I know you're _new to this_, but you know better than to speak ill of my Maker and our sheriff."

"I don't care who he is, I hate him."

"That may be. But he wants her around. So you'll keep seeing her and report back to me with everything you learn about her family."

"No, I won't."

Quinn stared down at Santana for a minute before sighing. "I really thought you'd learned better by now," she said, her words light and airy as if she were commenting on inclement weather. "Santana, as your Maker..."

Santana wanted to scream at her, but she squeezed her fists and closed her eyes. "Fine!" she barked. "Now let me sleep!"

* * *

When Santana awoke, she could sense overwhelming despair and suffering and knew, because of their bond, that Brittany was upstairs. She cursed herself for the choices she'd made. If she'd just left Brittany in the hotel room that night, without letting her drink from her, none of this would have happened. They would never have fallen in love. Santana doubted they were actually _in_ love, trying to convince herself they were deluded by their excessive blood sharing.

Lying in her coffin, Santana willed herself to detach from Brittany. She wanted the clarity it might provide. Then she could decide, with a clear head, how to appropriately avenge the wrong that had been done to her. She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed the feeling of despair up, trying to lift it from her chest. But it only sat on her heavier, more demanding and cruel than before. Now she could hear Brittany whimpering, the noise muffled by the floor between them.

"I'm so stupid," Brittany blubbered. "I should have told her right away. Now she hates me..."

To Santana's fury, Quinn started talking, her voice soft and gentle like it never was with Santana. "She doesn't hate you, sweet pea. She's angry, but she'll come around. She always does." She was quiet for a moment as Brittany sniffled into what must have been her shoulder. "Trust me," Quinn added, "I've been dealing with her temper for fifty years."

Santana felt her body go stiff with anger. Quinn was talking about her to the one person she didn't want knowing any more about her.

Brittany whimpered for a second before she mumbled. "She's awake."

Quinn stroked her hair in an effort to soothe her. "She is?"

"I can feel her," Brittany explained. She sounded even sadder at the reminder of their bond.

"You can feel her waking up?" Quinn asked, sounding surprised.

Brittany must have nodded. "She's really angry. She doesn't want to come upstairs."

_Fuck right, I'm angry_, Santana thought. She hoped Brittany couldn't hear her thoughts. She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined pushing on the ceiling, distancing herself from Quinn and the awful bond she had with a traitorous human.

But it was to no avail. Their bond was stronger than steel and weighed like lead on top of her. She was exhausted already, and she'd only been awake for a minute.

"I'll go get her," Quinn murmured.

Brittany exhaled in gratitude. She hiccupped a few times and Santana started to prickle as she heard Quinn's footsteps nearing the door to her basement. She tried to push Quinn away, willing the door to lock itself, but again, to no avail.

Quinn's tidy rap on the lid of her coffin echoed around Santana. She crossed her arms, determined not to answer. After a minute, Quinn flung the lid of the coffin open and looked at Santana before rolling her eyes. "Time to get up, princess," she said, mocking. "Your girlfriend wants to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to her."

"You don't have to talk, but you do have to listen. She's a fucking wreck. I know you can feel it."

Santana didn't move and Quinn let out an exasperated sigh.

"Santana, as your Maker-"

"Fuck you," Santana hissed as she sprang out of her coffin and stomped up the stairs as fast as she could.

When she entered the living room, she saw Brittany, pale and distraught, sitting in the center of the couch, knees pinned together, trembling with her tears. Her eyes went wide in fear when Santana appeared before her at vampire speed.

"Hi," Brittany squeaked.

Santana said nothing, staring at her in contempt for a moment before stalking over to an oversized chair and flopping into it, swinging her legs over the armrest and facing the wall, arms over her chest.

Brittany started shaking more, and it rattled Santana. It was like walking a three-legged race, only instead of their bodies, their emotions moved together, and there was no finish line in sight.

"Santana, I was going to tell you..."

Santana said nothing.

"I was going to tell you, but I was scared you'd react like this. I didn't want you to go away."

There was a long period of silence and then Brittany said, "Did you hear what I said?"

Santana huffed. "Quinn says I have to listen. She's on her usual power trip. So thanks for that. I needed one more unpleasant thing in my life."

Brittany hiccuped again and whispered, "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Brittany."

There was more determination in Brittany's voice as she responded, despite her sadness. "Santana, if I had told you right away, I never would have gotten to know you. And I really wanted to know you."

Clearly Brittany didn't understand how egregious her omission had been.

"If your dad was a leader of the KKK, would you bring a black person into your house?"

Brittany's eyes went wide. "No!" she gasped. "I would _never_ do that!"

Santana scoffed. "Please! Brittany, that is _exactly_ what you did! Hate crimes are hate crimes, and you know better than anyone what kind of fucked up shit Fellowship of the Sun does. You don't get to decide to risk someone else's life! Do you understand?"

Brittany quivered in fear, realizing why Santana was so angry. "I... I understand. I didn't think of it like that."

Despite Brittany's concession, Santana didn't feel validated. She still felt fury bubbling up through her. But at the same time, Brittany's guilt and misery weighed her down like chain metal. Everything inside her body felt compressed.

She could feel Brittany's body surge with anxiety and guilt, but she tried to block it out. It didn't matter how Brittany was feeling. What Brittany had done was unforgivable and she deserved to feel that way. Santana recrossed her arms over her chest and put on a scowl, facing the wall. She would sit here all night in silence if she had to, and it didn't matter what Brittany did or said.

"Please hear me out," Brittany said. Her voice was frail and small. Santana hated it. It was so fake. Everything about Brittany was probably fake. She probably found a way to make her blood taste better than it actually was.

"Why should I listen to you? You deceived me and for all I know, tried to kill me."

"I would _never_ hurt you," Brittany insisted.

"Could have fooled me," Santana muttered, still not meeting her eyes. She faced the wall, determined to be as emotionless and impenetrable as the concrete before her. "I bet you and your friends had a good laugh. Did you tell them about all the weird stuff you did with the silver?"

"What? _No_," Brittany said, her brow creasing with sadness at the accusation. "That was special. Only between you and me."

"Bet you felt pretty good about yourself, overpowering a vampire."

"That wasn't the point."

Santana whirled around the face Brittany. "What was the point? Huh? Dragging me into your house with your hateful parents and your crazy religious dad just so you could piss him off? Because this just in, Britt, _I could have killed you_." She jabbed her finger toward Brittany's chest to prove a point. "Whatever your issues with your dad are, you need to find another way to sort them out, because playing with vampires is not for little girls."

Brittany blinked at Santana, stunned. "Is that what you think I am?" she asked, her voice small and sad.

Santana said nothing. The Brittany she thought she knew wasn't a little girl. But she didn't know what to believe now. This whole time, Brittany's life had been a lie.

Brittany's shoulders drooped. "I guess being around a vampire when my dad hates them so much _was_ kind of exciting. But that's not why I pursued you."

Santana scoffed in disbelief.

"It's not!" Brittany insisted. "I would have pursued you if you were a human. I don't care what you are. I just _love_ you."

Santana felt her motionless heart twist. She had been so sure of Brittany's love, and doubting it had been more painful than anything she'd experienced as a human or vampire. She swallowed, trying to remain stoic.

When Santana didn't respond, Brittany kept talking. "I should have told you about my dad. I _know_ I should have. But I'm not my dad. I don't like what he stands for and maybe I wanted him to see that all vampires aren't bad. Just like not all humans are good."

"So you decided to volunteer _me_ to rehabilitate him?"

"No, it wasn't like that..."

"Seems an awful lot like that to me. But until I consent to go on a suicide mission, consider me out."

"He wouldn't have staked you."

"He stockpiles stakes in the same basement I was sleeping in! He wouldn't think I'm special!"

Brittany gave a slow, regretful nod, looking around the floor. "I'm sorry I put you in danger."

"Bit late for that now, Britt."

It was silent for a moment, and Santana realized that silence around Brittany when one of them was angry was more excruciating than talking.

"I never brought you around when he was home."

"How considerate," Santana mocked.

Another long silence fell around the room and Santana felt her skin crawl. She was itching and thirsty and if she hadn't been so angry, she would be devouring Brittany right now.

Santana heard a sniffle and looked up to find Brittany crying into her hands.

She started whimpering, "I'm sorry I'm so stupid. I just wanted to be around you all the time and I wasn't thinking clearly. I love you so much and I can't stand for you to be so mad at me. Please tell me how to make it better."

Brittany kept crying, loosening the binding of Santana's resolve to be impenetrable.

"_Please_ don't make me go home. I can go get you some Tru Blood or pick up from your regular sources or something. Just don't send me away!" Brittany dissolved into quiet, pitiful weeping.

Santana hated the sound of Brittany begging. Simply to put an end to the heart-wrenching noise, she muttered, "Don't buy from the Quik Mart. They're assholes."

Brittany let out a relieved gasp. She nodded and turned to go.

"Don't think this means you're forgiven," Santana called after her.

Brittany nodded, dropping her head.

Once Brittany had gone, Santana was frustrated and disappointed in herself. Why hadn't she been able to resist Brittany's pleading? Why did she crumble with just a few saltwater tears?

* * *

For days, Brittany moaned her apologies without end, running Santana's errands and cleaning her house and never leaving the premises. She was too distraught to go to class, unable to focus now that she didn't have Santana's unwavering affection. Brittany had lost her appetite and was looking frailer and paler by the day. Santana hated to admit it, but seeing Brittany in so much agony made her feel worse.

Their bond hadn't been broken, after all, so they felt everything together. Brittany's grief weighed Santana down so heavily, she hardly had any appetite. She hated everything about her existence right now. Being a vampire, being bonded to Brittany, and being under Quinn's command. If she had any less pride, she would have walked out into the sunlight, letting herself disintegrate and fly into the wind, never to feel again. She cried herself to sleep, hot, angry tears soaking into her coffin. She didn't even bother to talk back to Quinn. She didn't have the energy or the desire.

Quinn had issued an order for Santana to allow Brittany to stay in her house. Santana cursed the callous walls of Quinn's heart, wishing they were mortal and she could spark a hint of fear in Quinn. Quinn had spent the past fifty years putting Santana in her place, to the point where Santana often felt she was so small, she had to scream to be heard. And even then, she was usually ignored. Santana had been fighting with Quinn for fifty years in hopes of gaining some of her autonomy back.

Until now.

Now that the one good thing in her existence had been stripped of her loveliness, Santana had no will to keep fighting. She obeyed Quinn without even an annoyed roll of her eyes. She would have let herself starve to death, letting the bleeds take over, if it hadn't been for Brittany's constant fretting.

Brittany had been running out to get fresh blood from all Santana's regular sources. Santana was appalled by it - it didn't seem right for a human to be paying another human for their blood-, but she was too tired to protest. Brittany prepared the blood and brought it to her at regular intervals, as though she we caring for a hospital patient, delivering medication on schedule. Santana felt as though she _should_ be in the sterile confines of a hospital. The irony was that her nurse, the one bringing her sustenance, was the very source of her decline into despair and agony.

Santana was stony and unresponsive to Brittany's pleas, avoiding eye contact as though it were sunlight. She drank the blood Brittany brought, but took no pleasure in it. When Brittany used a siphoning kit to fill a glass with her own blood, thinking she could somehow lure Santana into forgiveness at the taste, Santana felt her stomach curl around the liquid. She fought to keep herself from crying as she pushed the blood away.

"I don't want that," she said flatly.

Because if their blood bond, Santana felt Brittany's body crumple in response. It was agonizing, being chained together that way. If there was an antidote for their bond, she would have climbed mountains to obtain it. But no such antidote existed.

Brittany started crying again, slow, gasping cries that looked like they were pummeling through her frail little body. Brittany crying was the worst sound in the world, and Santana didn't want Brittany to have that power over her anymore. She wanted to be untouchable so no one could ever hurt her the way Brittany had hurt her.

But the truth was that, despite the betrayal, Santana wasn't impervious to Brittany's feelings. She didn't like watching Brittany cry any more than she had before she learned how deceptive Brittany was. It was hard to reconcile the Brittany she knew and loved with what Brittany had done.

Brittany, for her part, was looking sicklier by the day. Her skin turned paler and more translucent, her eyes appearing hollow, with dark circles underneath. Her arms, once so strong and lovely, hung limp as she shuffled around the house, cleaning and catering the whatever needs she felt in Santana. Her heartbeat was weaker and she never dreamt. Her breath didn't feel as warm. It was the most lifeless Santana had ever seen her.

After a week of this miserable arrangement, they were exhausted. Eyes drooped closed, feet dragged, and words slurred. It was lifeless in the bitterest sense of the word. There was no livelihood, not even of anger. It was like an infection spreading through the woodwork.

Finally, Quinn showed up unannounced one evening shortly after dusk.

"Time's up, Santana," Quinn said, sounding fatigued. "I've had enough of your moping, and that poor girl has done enough groveling for a lifetime."

Santana sat, staring blankly out the window at the forest behind her house. "I'll never forgive her," she said, her words flat and lifeless.

"That's crap," Quinn said. "I'm here to put an end to this once and for all."

Santana's nerves spiked. What did Quinn mean?

With a terrifying punch to her gut, she realized Quinn meant she was going to end _Brittany_ once and for all.

She spun around and lunged at Quinn. "No!" she yelled, throwing the first punch. "Don't touch her! She deserves to feel bad!"

Quinn was surprised, though her expression was still muted as she dodged Santana's fist. "Santana, control yourself! I'm not going to let you torture her any more."

"I'm not torturing her!" Santana barked. "She brought this on herself!"

Quinn let out a heavy sigh. "I don't want to get into an argument about who deserves what. She called me here to straighten things out, and I'm not so heartless as to refuse. Now come with me into the living room where she's been cleaning all day and crying into your couch."

"I don't want to be around her," Santana snapped. "It feels horrible."

Quinn's patience was wearing thin. She pursed her lips. "Santana, as your Maker-"

Santana rushed past Quinn into the living room, not wanting to hear the rest of the command. She was _so_ sick of Quinn ordering her around.

She stormed into the living room and saw Brittany sitting on the couch staring blankly at the floor, her face pink and raw from crying. She had a small bruise on her arm. It was unusual, seeing Brittany injured. Brittany drank from Santana so often, she hardly ever had injuries, aside from the bite marks she insisted Santana leave on her neck. Santana was reminded of how long it had been since she tasted Brittany's blood and felt a twinge of longing.

But she couldn't let that feeling prevail. She stuffed it down and tried to stare at Brittany with hard eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "So now you've got Quinn bossing me around for you, huh?" she demanded.

Brittany's eyes rose to Santana's for a second before her face crinkled.

Quinn appeared behind Santana, walking past her. "She didn't ask me to command you," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Sit down. All you have to do is watch."

Santana tried to stay impenetrable, but grew nervous. What had Brittany asked Quinn to do?

Quinn sat down in the couch next to Brittany, taking her hands in hers. She was so gentle and warm with Brittany, like she was with her patients when she did house calls. Santana had accompanied Quinn on a few house calls when she was a new vampire and remembered being in awe of Quinn's poise and ability to soothe her patients. But it was that very soothing that gave Santana a pang of jealousy. Why wasn't Quinn ever that soft with her?

Quinn gave Brittany's hands a gentle squeeze. "It won't hurt at all," she said in a soft murmur.

Santana realized with a jolt that Quinn was going to fulfill Brittany's wish of being turned into a vampire. "Don't!" she shouted. "Don't you fucking turn her, Quinn!"

Quinn and Brittany looked at Santana, startled. Quinn blinked a few times and Brittany looked even more heartbroken.

By shouting at them, Santana realized she had just admitted she still cared.

"I'm not going to turn her," Quinn said her voice still soft and gentle. "I'm going to get some honest answers so you know the truth."

Santana zipped back up, recrossing her arms and setting her brow in a hard scowl. She wasn't going to say another word or show any reaction until Quinn released her from the command and she could leave the room.

Quinn turned back to Brittany. "Don't worry. Some humans say it feels good. Kind of like taking opium."

Brittany nodded, putting all her faith in Quinn. Santana knew she was hanging every last hope on Quinn's intervention, and Santana was determined not to cave.

Quinn took a deep breath and then stared deep into Brittany's eyes. Her voice became dark and hypnotic as she leaned closer. "Everything's going to be okay, Brittany. You're safe with me."

Santana realized what Quinn was doing. She was glamouring Brittany. She hated the idea, but she had promised herself she wouldn't react to anything. Had Brittany asked for this? Asked for Quinn to take control of her mind and body?

Soon Santana saw Brittany's pupils dilate and her face fall blank. Her shoulders relaxed and she stared into Quinn's eyes without blinking. It was creepy, and Santana could hardly watch.

"Brittany, I'm going to ask you some questions and you have to answer me honestly. I'll be able to tell if you're lying. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dr. Fabray," Brittany said, her voice a dull drone.

"Call me Quinn, sweetie," Quinn said with a smile. "I'm your friend."

Santana held herself back from scoffing and saying _No you're not_.

"Okay, Quinn," Brittany said obediently.

"Brittany, you've been so sad lately. Why are you sad?"

Brittany's face was blank as she said, "Because Santana doesn't love me anymore."

Santana felt her chest clench at the heartbroken words, even if they didn't match up with Brittany's expression.

"Why doesn't Santana love you anymore?" Quinn said, giving Brittany a pitying expression, even though she was concentrating on glamouring her.

"Because I did something awful," Brittany murmured.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't tell her that my father is an anti-vampire activist and that he works for Fellowship of the Sun."

Quinn nodded, still staring deep into Brittany's eyes. "Do you have anything in common with your father?"

"We both have blond hair. We both like dogs," Brittany said, her flat words almost humorous given the statement.

"Anything else?"

"We both love my mom," Brittany said, seeming to fall deeper into Quinn's trance.

"Anything else?"

"No."

Quinn gave a nod, contemplating before she asked her next question.

"Brittany, do you think vampires are evil?"

"Some vampires are evil," Brittany droned.

Santana burned, her anger bubbling up, righteous at Brittany's admission.

"Do you think _humans_ are evil?" Quinn asked.

"Some humans are evil."

Santana felt her anger fizzle, realizing that Brittany wasn't admitting to any beliefs she hadn't known about before.

"Do you think vampires are good?" Quinn asked.

"Some vampires are good. Santana is good. You are good," Brittany said.

Santana could have sworn that Brittany was reaching for her, even though her body was motionless and her gaze was locked with Quinn's.

"Do you think humans are good?" Quinn asked.

"Some humans are good."

"Is your mother good?"

"Yes."

"Is your father good?"

Brittany paused for a moment, stumbling even in the midst of hypnosis. Her mouth hung open for a moment before she said, "No."

"Do you love your father?" Quinn asked.

Without pausing, Brittany said, "Yes."

Something about Brittany's response, even after she'd admitted her father was a bad person, made Santana's heart ache. Brittany loved her father even though she believed he was a bad person. Santana didn't believe that kind of compassion was possible. And yet there was no way Brittany was telling a lie. Quinn was a skilled glamourer.

Quinn turned softer as she changed the subject of her questioning.

"Brittany, have you ever staked a vampire?"

"_No_," Brittany said, her answer seeming urgent. Even under hypnosis, the idea of killing someone frightened her.

"Have you ever tried to stake someone?"

"_No_."

"Would you ever stake someone?"

"Only if they were trying to hurt Santana."

Santana squirmed, uncomfortable with Brittany's devotion.

Quinn pursed her lips and nodded, holding Brittany under her power as she thought of more questions.

"Brittany, why didn't you tell Santana about your father?"

Brittany's answer came right away. "I wanted her to trust me."

Quinn nodded. "Does your father know you're dating a vampire?"

"_Was_," Santana interrupted. "_Was_ dating a vampire." She kicked herself for breaking her silence.

Brittany didn't hear her as she answered Quinn. "No, he doesn't know."

"Were you going to tell him?" Quinn asked.

"Not before I talked to Santana. I wouldn't tell him without her permission."

Quinn's torso seemed to droop with tenderness for Brittany. If she had been able to shoot Santana a pointed look without breaking the glamouring spell on Brittany, Santana was certain she would have.

"Anything else you want to know, Santana?" Quinn asked.

Santana paused before she said. "Ask her if there are any other secrets she's keeping from me."

Quinn nodded and said, "Brittany, do you have any other secrets from Santana?"

Brittany nodded and said, "I bought her really nice sheets for her coffin for her birthday, even though she doesn't celebrate it. I'm going to surprise her."

Santana felt a small wave of guilt wash over her. Brittany really was sweet on the inside, even if she'd made a huge mistake. Perhaps she'd been too harsh with her.

Quinn gave Brittany an adoring smile. "That's very sweet, Brittany. Do you have any other secrets from Santana?"

Brittany gave a faint shake of her head, the voluntary movement while under hypnosis conveying her certainty. "No. I have no secrets from Santana."

Quinn nodded, still staring at Brittany.

"You did very well, Brittany," she said, her voice low and warm. "I'm pleased you were honest with me. When I look away, you will have full power over your body and mind again."

"Okay, Quinn," Brittany droned.

Just before Quinn broke her hold on Brittany, she asked Santana, "Santana, do you want her to remember what she said?"

Santana contemplated. Even if Brittany had hurt her, Santana knew how powerless it felt to have no recollection of a period of time. So she said, "Yes."

Quinn gave Brittany's hands a gentle squeeze before she turned her head and looked at Santana, a solemn _I told you so_ expression on her face. Santana swallowed, trying not to let guilt overtake her.

"You're free to go, Santana," Quinn said. "I release you from your commands. I hope you'll be kind with her." She got up and left the house, the only noise the clicking of the latch as she closed the door.

Brittany blinked rapidly for a few seconds, as though she had been startled awake. Then, fear flashing in her eyes, she looked at Santana. As Brittany's eyes filled with hopeful tears, Santana felt her eyes stinging as well.

Brittany's lips trembled and Santana could barely make out the words, "Please forgive me."

Having heard Brittany's confession, having seen the simplicity and vastness of her ability to love, Santana could no longer shut Brittany out. She was still wounded, but she was willing to let Brittany in. Just a little bit.

Knowing Brittany was too frightened to move - she could sense it - Santana slowly moved to where Quinn had been sitting. She tucked her hair behind her ears and sat up straight, buying herself time to think of what words to use. "That was nice," she said.

Brittany gave her a guilty shrug. "I didn't know what else to do..." Her voice was as frail and scared as she looked.

There was a long period of silence, during which Brittany tried not to shiver.

"You really got me new coffin sheets?" Santana asked, remembering Brittany's confession.

Brittany let out a desperate squeak of a laugh. "Yeah..."

Santana nodded, contemplating. "That was sweet."

Brittany said nothing, biting her lips and staring at her feet. Santana could feel the guilt that weighed Brittany down and the pinching in her stomach, though it felt different that Brittany's usual hunger.

"You can stay, if you like," Santana said, her voice softer than she intended.

Brittany's head tilted up in hope. "Really?"

Santana nodded. "I'll order a pizza."

Brittany's tears welled up again, and Santana felt her own eyes sting. Brittany trembled harder and finally Santana had to let go. Seeing Brittany like this, feeling what she was feeling while knowing that Brittany was as loving and pure as she seemed to be, was intolerable. Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany, trying to warm her, even though she knew her body would do nothing to produce heat.

Brittany seemed to break too. The tears and whimpers and groans Santana had grown used to hearing over the last week started again, vibrating against Santana. But this time there was a relief that resonated through them, a warmth breaking over them that made Santana feel whole. Things weren't perfect, and she was still hurt. But feeling how genuinely Brittany wanted to be with her, knowing how sorry she felt, Santana was determined to sort things out.

She put a hand on the back of Brittany's head and started stroking her hair, hushing her, as though she were a child that needed soothing. Santana wanted soothing too, and Brittany was the only person who had ever been able to do that since her human mother. Brittany cried and cried against Santana, blubbering her gratitude and relief at being given a second chance. She pulled back, wiping her face with both hands as she declared, "I thought I was going to die." She shuddered and then added. "That's what it felt like."

Santana had been able to feel what Brittany had felt. She knew about the ice block in her chest and headaches and chest pains and inability to control her crying. Paired with memories of her own death, Santana realized Brittany wasn't far off. So she said, "Me too."

Brittany fell into her arms again, crying and squeezing Santana to her as tightly as she could. After she had settled down, Brittany lifted her head from Santana's shoulder, looking her in the eyes with a mixture of fear and helplessness. Her eyes flickered down to Santana's lips for a fraction of a second. Santana knew she wanted to kiss her, but was afraid. The vulnerability they'd felt was terrifying. But they had to start somewhere. Steeling herself, she closed the gap between them and kissed Brittany, soft and sure, promising to work on their relationship for as long as she could.

After the kiss, Brittany seemed to deflate into exhaustion. Santana could feel it, seeping off her, pulling her toward the ground. She laid Brittany out on the couch, covering her frame with a blanket.

"Sleep now," she whispered. "I'll wake you up when your food gets here."

Brittany's lips moved to say _thank you_, but it was in audible as her eyes slid closed and her head tilted toward the cushion. Santana pulled out her phone and got up, pacing the floor as the pizza delivery service number rang. She ordered Brittany's favorite, cheese with pineapple, and gave them her credit card number. When she was done, she sat down in the armchair, prepared to wait until the pizza arrived. Brittany, summoning the last of her strength, raised her arm, hand hanging limp at the end.

Without a sound, Santana rose and walked over to Brittany, settling down on the carpet and taking Brittany's hand. She squeezed it, reassuring her, promising not to leave. And with that squeeze, she felt Brittany slip into sleep, finally able to rest.


	13. Water Over Wine

**A/N: Short chapter! Fluffy. The eye of the storm.**

* * *

When the pizza arrived, Santana slid quietly to the door and accepted it with a calm smile. She had energy to smile now. She poured herself a glass of blood and heated it before tiptoeing back over to Brittany, kissing her on the cheek. When she didn't wake up, Santana closed her eyes and used their bond to urge Brittany awake. Brittany opened her eyes slowly, eyes drifting around the ceiling until she met Santana's eyes. Then her lips spread in a smile like sunrise, making the room warmer and Santana calmer. Santana smiled down at her, brushing hair out of her face. It was relieving to see Brittany in a place of peace. She held her gaze until she felt her stomach pinch with Brittany's hunger.

Santana opened the box and held a slice of pizza to Brittany's lips.

"Eat, sweetheart," Santana said. "You need to eat. I can feel..." She stopped, unsure how to explain what she felt. She felt the pinching in her stomach, but she also felt the fatigue in her limbs and the dizziness that came with hunger. She felt the longing and the weariness. She knew that no matter how much blood she drank, she would be hungry until Brittany was full.

Brittany opened her mouth and Santana slid the pizza over her lips. Brittany bit down lazily, not quite slicing through the cheese and letting a few gooey strands fall onto her chin. She giggled and lifted a pale hand to wipe them away. All Santana could think of was how good the cheese smelled and how delicious it looked. Without thinking, she bent down and licked some of the cheese and pizza grease off Brittany's chin. It was a playful yet nurturing lick, and her fangs stayed tucked in as she grinned at Brittany and then licked again. Brittany giggled and opened her mouth for another bite, which Santana fed her. Whenever cheese fell on Brittany's chin, Santana licked it up.

As the food slid into Brittany's stomach and her strength grew, Santana felt like the lights around her house were getting brighter and she could see with more clarity. It felt good to feed Brittany after watching her starve. She liked taking care of Brittany. In a way, it was like taking care of herself. The girl lying on her couch eating pizza and grinning for no reason was soothing her without effort, making her feel okay for the first time in days. Could it really be the same girl she'd rejected and yelled at and spurned for a week?

The more lively Brittany became, the more alarmed Santana grew. What had she been thinking? Refusing Brittany's blood, not thanking her for the care she had shown, rejecting her company? It was horrifying to realize that she'd become as cold and detached as Quinn. She knew vampires were ruthless, but she had never been so cruel to Brittany. As she remembered things she'd said and done, she started to sink, like an old balloon slowly leaking and floating to the floor before crumpling.

As she sank, Brittany's frown followed her.

"What's wrong?" Brittany asked, growing concerned. "Why are you getting heavy again?"

Santana felt guilty for dragging Brittany down with her. "Just thinking..." she hedged.

"About?"

Santana remembered refusing Brittany's blood, remembered the cold stares she'd given Brittany when she was in tears. The memory of her heartless actions made her cringe, and her eyes started to sting with shameful tears.

"About how horrible I was to you."

Brittany pouted, sad that Santana was getting upset again so soon.

"What I did was wrong, Santana," Brittany murmured. "You had a right to be mad at me."

Santana gave a dismissive eyeroll and sniffled. "But I acted like I didn't love you anymore." The more Santana thought about it and remembered the fury bubbling inside her as she willed shame and suffering onto the girl she loved, the worse she felt. She started crying harder. "I don't ever want to be like that again."

She sniffled for a few moments and Brittany reached up, dabbing at her tears with the edge of the blanket Santana had covered her with. "It wasn't your fault," she said.

"Of _course_ it's my fault, Brittany," Santana argued.

"No," Brittany hummed, eyes glistening with sympathetic tears. "Our bond is really confusing."

Santana shuddered and nodded, closing her eyes to try to get her tears under control.

Brittany continued, her voice steady and soothing as she sat up and put her arm around Santana. "I could feel your anger, and you could feel my shame and guilt, and all our feelings snowballed into something bigger than either of us could handle. Neither of us were our usual selves because we were overwhelmed."

Santana thought for a moment before nodding. What Brittany said made sense.

"It's like, you can only download a certain number of songs at once and the rest have to wait. We were downloading the entire Beatles catalog equivalent of feelings at the same time and then they all started playing and we kind of lost it."

Santana sniffled, adoring Brittany for her analogy.

"Magical Mystery Tour is enough to do that on its own..." Santana said, trying to lighten the mood with a reference to Brittany's favorite Beatles song.

Brittany gave her a sympathetic chuckle. "Yeah. Maybe what we learned from this is - well, first, obviously, for me not to lie to you. But we need to be careful around each other when we're emotional. Everything gets magnified. Which is great if we're feeling happy or frisky or something. But if it's a less comfortable feeling, then it gets tricky."

Santana looked at Brittany as she processed Brittany's hypothesis.

"You think I wouldn't have gotten so mad if you hadn't come over right away?"

"I know you wouldn't have," Brittany said, rubbing Santana's arm. "You wouldn't be like that by choice. It was like a car with no breaks. A very _bad_ magical mystery tour."

Santana took a deep breath to steady herself, then took Brittany's hand in her own. "I'm glad we were able to jump out before we crashed."

"Me too, sweetheart."

There was a moment of quiet as Santana felt herself float back up to the feeling of content she usually felt sitting next to Brittany.

But then she wondered: how had they manage to stop the collision course?

It had to be Quinn.

"How did you get Quinn to help us?" Santana wondered.

Brittany gave a casual shrug. "I just asked her."

Santana frowned in disbelief. "Like, called her up and asked her to glamour you so we could get back together?"

"Pretty much."

Santana was even more stumped. Quinn never did favors like that.

"Did she ask you anything about your family?"

"No."

"Did she ask for payment or blood or anything?"

"Nope."

Now Santana was utterly perplexed.

"But she never does things like that..." She frowned. She was concerned that they were cornered by Quinn in some way that was yet to be revealed.

"Don't worry about Quinn, sweetheart," she cooed. "Like I said when she glamoured me, I really think she's good. You just have to let yourself see it."

Santana resisted for a moment, but then decided it was easier to consider Brittany's perspective than to try to sort out the mysteriousness of Quinn.

"Sweetie," Brittany said, cautious as she put her hand on Santana's knee. "Did you notice something tonight?"

"About Quinn?"

"No," Brittany hushed. "About you."

Santana shook her head. "That I've been really emotional?"

Brittany shook her head. "You ate a little bit of cheese and you didn't get sick." She lifted a steady hand to Santana's face, wiping at a tear with two fingers. She held it up, clear and shiny in the light. "And you're crying water instead of blood."


	14. Outskirts

Santana shivered in shock. Why was she crying _water_? Why hadn't she gotten sick from human food? She started to tremble, but Brittany put her hand on her arm and hushed, "It's okay. Stay calm. You're okay, I've got you."

Listening to Brittany's words wouldn't have been enough alone, but paired with the calmness she could feel Brittany willing into her, Santana stopped trembling, though her eyes stayed wide and fixed on Brittany's.

"What does it mean?" she gasped.

Brittany gave her a timid shrug. "You know more about vampires than I do."

But Santana didn't feel she knew much about vampires. She hardly knew her own Maker, it seemed, and now the things she had grown used to about being dead were changing. What would be next? Would she be able to go out in the light? To touch silver?

She pushed those thoughts down. It was impossible for a vampire to turn human. She was probably ill with some mysterious supernatural disease and Quinn would make her drink all kinds of disgusting concoctions with monkey root and organic hemp seed to combat the toxins eating her from the inside.

She started to panic more at the thought of getting sick, but Brittany anchored her.

"Easy, sweetie..." Brittany whispered.

"What if I'm sick?" Santana asked.

"Do you feel sick?"

"There are all kinds of crazy supernatural diseases and poisons. I must have gotten something while I was angry and my guard was down."

Brittany repeated her question. "Do you feel sick?"

"No, but..."

"If you feel okay and you look okay, then you're okay. You're just... special."

Santana frowned, looking at the ground. Brittany's calmness was commanding, but Santana was still perplexed. Why had she started crying _water_? She hadn't had a sip of water in fifty years. Where had it come from?

Brittany rubbed her arm some more. "Would it make you feel better to ask Quinn if she's ever heard of something like this?"

Santana wasn't sure. On the one hand, Quinn was a talented physician who knew more about supernatural illnesses and injuries than anyone in their county. But Quinn was also Quinn, and until Santana figured out what she was up to, Santana wanted to give her as little information as possible.

Brittany could sense Santana's hesitation. "How about we Google it?" she said, pulling out her phone. Her thumbs typed for a few moments before she waited for the page to load. Then Brittany frowned. "It has a bunch of stuff about Buffy and someone named Bram."

"Stoker," Santana said, rolling her eyes. "He wrote _Dracula_. Biggest piece of shit I ever read."

Brittany nodded and put her phone away. "Did you know him?"

"Stoker? No. He died before I was born, and Dracula isn't real."

"Oh."

There was silence for a moment and Santana could almost hear Brittany think. She had an adorable crease in her brow that made her look so serious and determined.

"What are you thinking?" Santana asked. As she studied Brittany, she felt her chest warm a little bit.

"Well..." Brittany seemed hesitant. "When I was little, I remember my dad saying something-"

Santana felt a sliver of ice slide through her arms and legs.

Brittany stopped, looking up at Santana. "I'm sorry," she whispered, apologetic for the fear she could feel slithering through Santana at the mere mention of her father.

Santana closed her eyes and waited for the anxiety to dissolve under Brittany's warmth and concern. It did, and she looked up again.

"It's okay," Santana said, trying not to grit her teeth. "You can't help who your dad is."

Brittany pursed her lips and waited until the tension faded from Santana's limbs.

"I remember hearing about a vampire who was able to prove to the church she wasn't a vampire by walking out into the sun."

Santana felt herself perk up at the possibility that she wasn't the only vampire who had transitioned into some kind of hybrid.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Brittany said. "She had fangs and burnt under silver, but she could go out in the sun." Her brow creased again before her face lifted in excitement. "Maybe we could find her and see if she knows anything about what's going on with you!"

Santana was cautious, but too curious not to contemplate Brittany's suggestion.

"Do you know her name?"

Brittany's face fell a bit, but she stayed hopeful.

"No, but I could find out. I'm sure there are... records. I could find her name."

Santana didn't want to know what kind of _records_ the Pierces had in their house. But if Brittany had access to anything that could explain why she was morphing away from her previous way of being, she was intrigued.

"Could find out without getting in trouble? Because if there's even a one percent chance that you'd get hurt or get involved in anything..." Santana trailed off, eying Brittany critically. She was hungry for an explanation, but she would never risk Brittany's safety to satisfy her curiosity.

"I'm sure," Brittany said with a calm smile.

But that smile didn't assure Santana. Brittany's optimistic and trusting nature was probably going to be the death of her. Hopefully not literally.

"I don't know, Britt..." Santana said, backtracking.

"It'll be fine," Brittany assured, patting Santana's arm. "I'll just find her name and we can do the rest on Google. It'll take five minutes."

"Are you _sure_?"

"Sure as I'm hopelessly in love with you," Brittany said, leaning towards Santana with a deep, solemn expression on her face.

Brittany's nearness and warmth melted away most of Santana's fear. She looked into Brittany's eyes and felt herself drawn to her lips. She kissed her, soft and sure, tasting the truth on Brittany's tongue.

Santana pulled away and took a breath, knowing she had to take Brittany for her word. "Okay," she said, still tentative. "But you get out of there at the _first_ sign of trouble."

Brittany's gaze still bored through Santana as she nodded and clasped Santana's hand in hers.

* * *

Santana kept the engine idling on the street as Brittany trotted over the gravel driveway and unlocked her front door. They hadn't needed to discuss the fact that Santana wasn't going to set foot inside the Pierce house again. Unless, Santana excepted, Brittany's life was in danger.

Santana listened as carefully as she could, hearing the predictable squeak of the seventh stair as Brittany walked up it. She heard a few small patterings around the house and knew they were just the family cat, who would never come out if Santana was around.

Santana heard Brittany open a door that creaked in a way that was different than the rasp of Brittany's bedroom door knob. Brittany's feet became muted on thick carpet, and Santana could hear she was walking carefully, taking care not to disturb anything around her. If Brittany was being cautious, there must be some kind of danger.

Santana knew this had been a bad idea. As predicted, Brittany had downplayed the danger of sneaking around in her father's study to Santana's face. Santana closed her eyes and tried to breathe deeply, calming herself as she listened for any pindrop of danger or prickling of fear on Brittany's neck.

Santana sensed her. She could almost feel the way Brittany's shoes were cushioned in the carpet as she walked toward something. What it was, Santana wasn't sure. A desk maybe? A file cabinet? Whatever it was, Brittany stopped and bent to her knees before the unrolling of a drawer thundered through the house. Next came the flicking of files, like raindrops under Brittany's fingers. Brittany started humming, and Santana cringed, wishing Brittany would be quieter. Didn't Brittany have any clue how to go on a stealth mission? The humming sounded foreboding, like the song of an innocent child in a horror movie right before they were abducted.

Brittany stopped humming and clicked her tongue. "Bingo," she whispered.

Brittany slid the file out, and Santana could only imagine it was a garish gold color, the gold that was gilded onto every artifice in the church, lining the roof and plating their crosses.

Once Brittany had asked her about crosses, and Santana had giggled. "Rumor," she said. "A cross can only hurt me in the same way it can you."

Brittany picked something up and Santana heard the scratching of a pen on paper before the tickling of paper corners against Brittany's skin. Brittany slid the file back into the cabinet and it rumbled shut. Brittany's feet went in doubletime as she left the room, clicking the door closed behind her.

Santana realized she'd been holding her breath and took a deep one, relieved Brittany was out of her father's office. As Brittany descended the stairs and exited, locking the door behind her, Santana felt her body warm with further relief. Only when Brittany was sitting next to her in the car, a look of triumphant mischief on her face, did Santana let herself relax completely.

"See? Easy as pie," Brittany said.

Santana leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Brittany, so glad to have her back in the safety of her car. When she pulled away, Brittany gave her a funny look, as though it were ridiculous for Santana to be worried about her when she was in her own house. But Santana was worried. If Jonathan Pierce was capable of the barbarity she had heard of, Santana had no idea how he treated his own family.

But Brittany, for her part, was unfazed. She proudly handed Santana the post-it that was moulded into her palm.

"Hopefully she'll have some answers for us," Brittany chirped, adjusting back into her seat.

Santana looked down and read the name:

_Shelby Corcoran._

Santana froze and then deflated. She'd let Brittany get her hopes up for naught.

"What's wrong?" Brittany frowned.

"Are you sure this is the right name?" Santana asked.

"Positive," Brittany said.

Santana let out a heavy sigh. "Shelby got staked by the Church ten years ago."

Brittany's brow creased deeper. "No she didn't, they let her go because she could walk out in the sun."

Santana felt foolish for believing Brittany's story before. It seemed Brittany had been shielded from the harshest of the Church's activities. "Britt... they don't let anyone go."

Brittany bent her head in shame. Santana felt her getting heavy at the reminder of the cruelty her father's church inflicted on people like Santana. Santana felt her eyes prickle and saw Brittany's eyes watering too. Something in her gut clenched and she regretted bringing the Church up at all. After living for a week under Brittany's heaviness, Santana didn't ever want to feel it again. She lifted the curtain of Brittany's hair and stroked it over her ear tenderly.

"It's not your fault, sweetie," Santana cooed. "I know you're not your dad."

Brittany sniffled and sat up straighter, grateful for Santana's gentleness. "They did though. I _know_ they let her go," she said, her voice wavering as she pointed to the paper in Santana's hand.

Santana wanted to believe it was true almost as hard as Brittany did. So she decided to placate Brittany. "I mean, we could do a search for her... but Quinn hasn't heard from her since the Church took her."

Brittany bit her lip. "Maybe they made her move or change her name or something," she offered. "Like when the Mob makes someone go away for a while."

Santana decided to overlook Brittany's understanding that _go away for a little while _meant anything other than going to jail. She supposed it was a possibility that the Church had ordered Shelby to disappear, just to continue their reign of fear in the vampire community, on the off chance that Shelby _was_ a vampire, despite being able to walk out in the sun.

"You think?" Santana asked.

Brittany's mind seemed to be spinning the idea into a fuller picture. "I bet they did," she said. "What did Shelby do for a living?"

"She was a singer."

Brittany pulled out her phone and started thumbing words into it. After a few minutes of scrolling with her pinky up and down her screen, she smiled in satisfaction.

"There's a Shelby Montgomery who teaches voice lessons a few towns over and offers discounts to people who come after 8pm." She gave Santana a conspiratorial smile.

Santana was cautious to jump to conclusions, but it did sound plausible.

"Is there an address or phone number?" Santana asked.

"There's both."

Before Santana could respond, Brittany pressed her screen and held the phone to her ear.

Santana tried not to cringe as she realized it was almost midnight and Brittany was probably calling someone who had no relation to Shelby Corcoran and wouldn't appreciate being woken up. But the phone was ringing and it was too late.

Santana tuned her ear to the phone.

_Hello?_

"Hi, may I speak to Shelby Corcoran please?" Brittany chirped.

Santana held her breath as the other end of the line was silent for a moment too long. Hope built in her chest.

The person on the other line coughed. _I'm sorry, you've got the wrong number._

Brittany played along. "Are you sure? I was given this number to reach her."

_You've got the wrong number. _The words sounded cold and forced. Definitely a vampire.

"Oh, okay," Brittany conceded. "Well, I'm interested in taking voice lessons with someone who is vampire-friendly. Do you happen to know anyone?"

Again there was a pause that puzzled Santana.

_All species are welcome in my studio._

Brittany grinned in triumph. "Great! Do you have any immediate openings? I have this thing for a talent competition at my school I'm really nervous about and I wanted to work on it right away."

Santana had to fall in love with Brittany a little bit more for her quick thinking and convincing roleplaying.

_When would you like to schedule a lesson?_

"How about tonight? I could get there by..." Brittany checked the clock, "Three?"

There was a short pause before the person on the phone said, _That works for me. Did you have any questions about my fee?_

"No, no questions. Money's not a problem," Brittany said, winking at Santana. "See you in a few hours!"

Brittany hung up and looked at Santana with an excited, mischievous smile. "Something tells me Shelby Corcoran and Shelby Montgomery know each other."

Santana sighed, resigned to the fact that she would be driving to the next town over for a "voice lesson" instead of spending the night curled up with Brittany, enjoying the much-needed peace she felt after a week of anguish. But looking at Brittany's excitement and determination to solve the mystery that was Santana's metamorphosis, Santana felt herself warm to the idea of driving to Shelby's house.

The hour it took to drive there seemed to go by quickly. Brittany kept her entertained with stories about her childhood - cutting out pieces that included her dad as often as possible - and recounting the plot of every Disney movie Santana hadn't seen, mostly the recent ones. It seemed only a few minutes had gone by when Brittany's phone announced they had arrived at their destination.

Santana looked around. Surely there had to be a mistake. They were next to a marsh and there were mosquitos everywhere. But more unnerving than that was the row of dumpy trailers in front of them, half-dead plants tilting out of cracked pots on their plastic stoops, awnings faded and ripped. There was no way someone as fashionable and ambitious as Shelby lived here, even if she had been exiled.

But they'd driven all this way, so Santana supposed they could knock on the door. Brittany scampered ahead of her, trying to knock mosquitos out of her way as she trudged over the gravel up to the trailer with the number 11 on it. Brittany opened the screen and rapped on the door, bouncing on her heels. She shot a look of excitement over her shoulder at Santana as they saw the trailer rock with someone's weight moving inside.

Santana pursed her lips, cautious and doubtful.

As soon as the door flew open, Santana gasped.

It was Shelby Corcoran.


	15. Thud

Santana froze in disbelief. There was no way that Shelby had escaped the Fellowship. And yet there she was, in the flesh, giving Brittany a polite, tired smile.

Santana tried to stay obscured in the shadows as long as she could. When Brittany looked over her shoulder, she wished she could be invisible. It wasn't that she was afraid of Shelby. Not really. Okay, a little. Anyone who could escape the Fellowship must have some power beyond any power she had seen. Power beyond Quinn's cruelty or Finn's idiocy or the Queen's ruthlessness. Power above vampires and humans alike. She was intrigued, but mostly terrified.

She closed her eyes and tried to send a thought into Brittany. _Don't let her see me. If she sees me, she'll lock you out and we won't get any answers._ Of course, Santana knew Brittany couldn't hear her thoughts, and of course she realized that if Shelby was indeed a vampire, she would be able to hear and smell Santana from hundreds of yards away. Santana hoped she was standing downwind so that she had a sliver of hope of staying concealed.

"Are you Miss Montgomery?" Brittany asked with a bright, innocent smile.

Shelby looked her up and down as she gave a stiff nod.

"Hi!" Brittany greeted. "I'm Brittany Lopez. I called you about the voice lesson?"

Santana's heart raced at the false surname Brittany had given herself.

_Brittany Lopez_. It sounded so nice.

Santana was comforted by the fact that Brittany knew better than to use her real name and risk hinting at her association, however involuntary, with the Fellowship.

But Brittany _Lopez_. That was unexpected.

"Come in," Shelby said in a cold voice. It wasn't threatening, but it indicated she had no time for games or mischief, which she already suspected, since Brittany had first inquired about a Miss Corcoran.

Brittany steeled herself and stepped forward into the trailer, putting one hand behind her back and curling her fingers a few times. Santana wasn't sure if she was beckoning Santana closer or saying goodbye for now, but Santana remained rooted to the spot. She didn't know how she felt about letting her delicious human girlfriend go alone into a trailer with a vampire. Of course she trusted Brittany implicitly, but this wasn't about fidelity. This was about the fact that Santana only trusted one person in the world, and it was not Shelby. Shelby could overpower Brittany and kill her before Santana could rip off the flimsy door to the trailer and stop her.

She crept forward, sniffing for any malice or malcontent, but found none. She smelled only weariness and something like grief. Loneliness? It must be. Santana supposed she should be intimately familiar with that smell, since she must have reeked of it for the past five decades. But since she had met Brittany, she had forgotten. For the hundredth time today, she was amazed at Brittany's power.

Brittany set to work situating herself in Shelby's trailer. Santana heard her settle on a fatigued old cushion as Shelby shifted around her, sitting across from her in the cramped space.

"I have a confession," Brittany said.

"You didn't come here for a voice lesson," Shelby said with a hint of annoyance.

Brittany must have given her a guilty-as-charged look, because she gave no verbal response. "It's probably not what you think though," she said. "I don't want to know anything about what happened with the Church. I just want some information."

Santana could sense Shelby stiffening. "What Church." It wasn't a question because the words were so forced.

"The hate group masquerading as a church," Brittany said, her voice low and serious to let Shelby know she wasn't going to tolerate any bluffing. "We both know what I'm talking about, but I don't want to talk about that."

"Who sent you here?" Shelby said, voice flat.

Brittany startled at the accusation. "No one."

"Are you wearing a wire?"

Brittany's shock turned to sadness. "No. But you can check if you like." Without prompting, she stood and started unbuttoning her shirt, inviting Shelby to search her for a recording device.

Shelby contemplated for a few seconds as the trailer creaked with Brittany's footsteps as she turned about, proving she wasn't bugged.

"Okay," Shelby sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"It's just that, I have a friend who's kind of like you. She's a little bit of both and it's really confusing for her and I want her to feel okay about what she is. I guess, just, whatever you want to tell me would be great. How you started to change, how fast it happened..."

"Who are were doing this for?"

"My girlfriend."

"And she's a vampire?"

"Yeah. Well, now she's mostly a vampire, but she can eat food and she doesn't cry blood."

Shelby paused for a minute, as though deciding whether or not to begin a conversation. She must have sensed that Brittany was trustworthy, because she decided to talk.

"I can eat food too. That was the first thing I noticed when I started changing."

Santana felt a victorious smile spread over Brittany's face and through her chest.

"And then what happened?" Brittany asked, rapt.

"Some of my organs started working sporadically. And after a while, I started being able to go out in the sun."

"Wow..." Brittany said, hushed and fascinated. "Do you know why?"

Shelby sighed and her earrings tinkled as she shook her head. "I went to a supernatural doctor, but he had no idea what was happening."

There was a long pause and Santana leaned forward, wondering what was happening in the trailer.

"Do you like it?" Brittany asked.

Shelby seemed surprised. "Like being part human?"

"Yeah."

"I- I suppose," Shelby stammered, as though no one had ever asked before. "It's nice to walk freely between the vampire and human world. I have something in common with everyone." There was a pause. "But at the same time, I don't really fit in with anyone."

"I know what you mean," Brittany said sagely. Santana supposed she was referring to bisexuality.

There was a pause as Shelby shifted in her seat. "Your friend could have come in, you know," she said. "She doesn't need to hide in the bushes."

Santana cringed, realizing Shelby had been aware of her presence the whole conversation.

"Oh!" Brittany said, startled. "Okay... Um, she's shy sometimes. But I'm sure she'd like to talk to you." Brittany twisted to face the wall closest to Santana and raised her voice slightly. "Baby, you can come in! Shelby's nice."

Santana was embarrassed at her feeble attempts to conceal her presence. She knew she had to join Shelby and Brittany in the trailer now, if she didn't want to look like an idiot. She walked forward and opened the door, looking inside to find Brittany beaming at her from her seat next to a small table, and Shelby sitting across the narrow walkway on a bench-like seat that was supposed to be the trailer's couch.

"Hi," Santana mumbled. "I'm Santana."

Shelby looked her up and down before her eyes softened. "How old are you, sweetie?" she asked.

"I was turned in 1963 at the age of twenty one," Santana said.

"Such a tender young thing," Shelby cooed.

Santana wondered if she was being mocked. It was hard to tell, with Shelby.

Shelby gestured to a corner of cushion next to Brittany and said, "Why don't you tell me what's going on."

Santana flushed with embarrassment at having to sit so close to Brittany in front of someone else. After all, only Quinn had ever seen them together, and that had been in a state of disequilibrium. She wasn't ashamed of Brittany; far from it. Santana was as proud as proud could be to have Brittany as her girlfriend. But she knew that if she sat pressed close to Brittany, Shelby would be able to tell how much desire Santana had for her. Nevertheless, she sat down, feeling one side of her body soak in the heat of Brittany's skin.

"It just started today," Santana said. "I ate some cheese off her pizza. Later I was upset and I started crying _water_."

Shelby gave Santana a warm yet somehow condescending smile. "I cry water too. Don't worry, it hasn't hurt me yet. Plus, it's easier to clean up than blood."

Santana nodded, mind flashing to the stain in the back of Mr. Pierce's car. She churned cold, and Brittany tensed next to her. Shelby noticed and her brow crinkled.

"What's wrong?"

Santana shook her head, hoping Shelby would drop the subject. "Just... nothing," Santana said. "I want to know more about your... whatever you call it. Transformation." As she said it, she cringed at the dramatic word choice. And yet, she couldn't help but feel dramatic. Eating food and crying water were dramatic events, after having done neither for fifty years.

Shelby leaned back against the wall of her trailer. "There's not much to tell. One day I woke up craving a croissant. So I went to the bakery, bought some, and ate them. They were so delicious I cried tears of water."

Santana frowned. Surely a vampire as old as Shelby - how old was she, actually? - would find it odd to wake up craving baked goods instead of blood.

"That was it?" Santana asked. "There wasn't anything leading up to it?"

"Who knows," Shelby shrugged.

Santana thought about what had precipitated her appetite for cheese and tears of water. The only exceptional thing was her constant proximity to Brittany. Maybe that had something to do with it.

"Were you around any humans at that time?" Santana asked.

Shelby stiffened, eyes darting to the side of the room. "Yes. My husband."

"Your husband?" Brittany asked.

Shelby nodded. "Since vampires weren't out of the coffin, we got a regular marriage license. The vampires weren't happy about it, but..." She trailed off and Santana got the impression she didn't want to continue.

Santana thought harder about what had happened over the past few days that had been out of the ordinary. But all she could think of was Brittany. But she hadn't even been drinking her blood, so excessive bloodsharing couldn't be the cause.

"Was there anything different about your relationship then?" Santana ventured. The worst Shelby could do was refuse to answer.

"He was not well," Shelby said, her words tight and cold. "He died a month later."

Santana felt something inside Brittany crumple with sympathy for Shelby as Brittany said, "I'm so sorry to hear that."

Shelby tried to shrug it off. "Humans die," she said, waving her hand. "I knew it would happen."

It was quiet for a moment and Santana prayed Brittany wouldn't take this opportunity to bring up her mortality. Luckily she didn't.

"Our daughter died too," Shelby said, staring at the floor. "Ten years ago."

The crumpling inside Brittany tightened into a wad of sadness lodged in her chest. "I'm so sorry..." Brittany mumbled.

Santana felt the sadness weighing her down, but couldn't help but wonder what Shelby meant by daughter. If Shelby was a vampire, she couldn't have birthed a child. Nothing dead can breed life.

"I didn't know you had a daughter," Santana said. It sounded colder than she meant it to, and challenging.

Shelby's eyes flashed to Santana's. "She was adopted."

Santana sank with guilt for challenging Shelby on a topic that was so laden with grief. She nodded in submission.

"I started being able to go out in the sun after she died," Shelby said. "But I don't know why or how." There was a moment of silence and Santana sensed Shelby tightening up, as though drawn by a corset, frantic to hold herself together in front of strangers.

Then Shelby stood up, walking towards the door.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you," she said, body and words stiff. "Brittany, I don't think I'm the right voice teacher for you."

She opened the door and held it there, a blatant request for Brittany and Santana to leave. Santana felt Brittany's sadness unfold itself, lying flatter inside her as she got up, taking Santana by the hand.

"Wait, I have one more question," Santana said.

Shelby's eyes bored into her, daring her to ask more about her deceased loved ones.

"Am I going to-" Santana stopped, eyes fleeting to Brittany as she realized she was about to insult her. "To... _age_?" Santana whispered, as though it were the most horrifying thing she could think of.

Shelby let out a scoff of a laugh. "I haven't so far," she said. "At least in appearance."

Santana bit her lip and nodded and let Brittany pull her out the door.

"Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to us," Brittany said in a warm murmur. "It really means a lot."

Shelby nodded and tucked her chin down, still holding the door open.

"If you ever want to be around people who are a little bit of both, you can give us a call," Brittany offered as she stepped down onto the gravel, pulling Santana with her as she looked back at Shelby with an apologetic smile.

Shelby said nothing, not pausing for a moment after Santana stepped outside before closing the door.

Brittany led Santana to the car, listening to the overwhelming noise of the crickets and scrape of gravel under their feet. Santana clicked the locks open and the got inside, buckling in silence. She started the engine, turning to Brittany with a tense smile as she said, "I just remembered we need to clean that stain out of your dad's car."

"Oh yeah," Brittany said. "We should do that."

Santana backed out of the trailer park and Brittany gasped. "Shoot! I gave her a fake name, so she won't be able to find us if she wants company."

Santana put her hand on Brittany's knee, comforting her, relishing the reminder of Brittany's chosen false surname. Brittany was so sweet, and so sure of their love. Santana hoped she would absorb some of her sweetness and certainty.

Santana waited until they were a mile away before she let her mind start to toy with the information Shelby had given them. Shelby had been fully vampire until close to the death of her husband. When her daughter died, she'd morphed into something almost fully human in appearance and behavior, with vampire speed and senses. What about those events could have caused her to change? Santana had no idea.

But then it hit her with a surge of panic: losing people she loved had caused Shelby to change. That could only mean that losing someone she loved was causing Santana to change.

Santana turned so icy, she had to pull over. Panic surged through her as she realized that the more human she became, the closer she was to losing Brittany. Was Brittany going to die soon? Be injured? Tortured? Turned? Santana started shaking, feeling unbearably restless and pained as she tried to shrug out of her very skin at the thought. She couldn't lose Brittany.

Brittany looked alarmed as her eyes danced over Santana, trying to deduce what was wrong.

"Baby, what is it?" Brittany gasped.

Santana's throat was too clogged with fear to respond. When she finally got her body under control, she gulped and gasped out, "Shelby was just really sad."

Brittany didn't calm, but she nodded. "She _was_ sad."

Santana couldn't tell Brittany she was worried for her safety without striking panic into the girl's mortal heart. So she simply said, "I don't ever want to be that sad."

Brittany's hand darted out to grab Santana's, holding it firm and determined between her own. She didn't say anything, but as Brittany held her hand, staring at it intently, Santana felt herself get lighter, as though she were floating up out of her seat into the air. It was a remarkable feeling, considering how much agony she had been in seconds earlier.

Brittany's gaze bored into her hand, banishing all the fear and pain. After a minute, Santana had to ask. "How are you doing that?"

Brittany didn't look away from Santana's hand, continuing to concentrate, but her face spread in a smile. "Like Peter Pan," she said. "Just _think happy thoughts_."

Santana mirrored Brittany's smile, feeling warmth seep up her arm and into her chest.

Brittany kept staring and said, "Birthdays and Christmas and puppies and the first day of spring and frosting and glitter and hearing you sing." She paused and then giggled. "That rhymed."

Santana smiled wider. Brittany was so intent on her happiness, she had all but forgotten her panic. She studied Brittany's face as something passed over it, warm and secretive.

"Now what are you thinking about?" Santana asked, feeling herself grow warmer.

Brittany smiled, looking a little embarrassed. "Just... wondering if the rest of you works differently now."

Santana felt the warmth in her torso center between her legs, arousal pooling for the first time in a week. Suddenly it felt like an avalanche. She had to have Brittany now.

"We should definitely figure that out."

"Yeah."

Neither girl moved as they felt the desire coursing through them, pulsing.

Shuddering with desire, Brittany said. "Let's go home first. I want to do you right in your own bed."

Santana swallowed, steeling herself to stay in check for the drive back to her house.

She managed somehow, and they made it into Santana's house without bursting. As Brittany leaned in and kissed her, Santana's thoughts fleeted to the silver chains Brittany had grown accustomed to using on her when she felt insatiable like this. It was excruciating, but in the end, they both had a better time. Santana thought it would perhaps be prudent for them to use the silver now, so she could be gentle with Brittany. Brittany still had the small bruise on her arm, and despite being nourished and re-energized, the previous week without eating or sleeping had taken its toll. Santana didn't want to overwhelm her.

But the silver was in Brittany's house, and even if Santana had dashed out the door and returned with it - risking her life in the process - she wouldn't be able to touch the silver unless it was wrapped in something. It seemed too risky.

So she willed herself to slow down. As Brittany's mouth grew urgent against her own, hands squeezing her hips in sync with the waves of their shared desire, Santana knew she needed to find another way to slow down. It was just too exciting, feeling lust after a week without it. So she did the best she could. She imagined Brittany draping the silver over her wrists and ankles and waist, weighting and grounding her at human speed and strength. As she imagined it, she felt herself growing heavier, as though she really were weighted down. But her desire didn't change. She was still burning in the best way. She felt controlled, like a burner on low.

Brittany seemed to sense Santana's control. She smiled into Santana's mouth and then pulled away. "I like this," she grinned. "You're very... steady," she said. "But still hot as hell."

Santana could hardly whimper a response as Brittany lifted her shirt. As it came over her head, Santana's hair fell onto her shoulders, as limp as her limbs felt. But inside she still burned.

Santana realized that she had learned to control herself around Brittany the way she had always wished she could. She could still have her, still desire her and touch her and love her, but she wasn't afraid of hurting her. Once she realized that, everything flowed like water. She removed Brittany's clothes, not too quickly or too rough, but still playful and excited. Brittany removed hers, sliding Santana down into her coffin and lying on top of her, starting to rock back and forth on her thigh. Santana's fangs released and hovered over the skin of Brittany's neck as she inhaled, smelling Brittany's blood, trembling with desire.

Brittany shuddered above her, rocking. "Bite me," she whispered. "Drink my blood."

Santana whimpered, the steadiness of her control wavering. "Are you sure?" She knew Brittany loved being bitten, but Brittany was still recovering from the frailty of the past week.

Brittany pressed down into Santana again and again, mumbling, "Uh huh."

Despite the reassurance, Santana was unsure. She rocked up into Brittany a few more times, debating, before flinging her own wrist in front of her face and tearing into the flesh, letting blood spring forth. She forced her wrist into Brittany's mouth and waited until she felt Brittany sucking. Then she dug her fangs into Brittany's neck and the both surged towards release. It seemed only a few seconds of rolling and panting together passed before they were clutching at each other in the throes of a long-overdue release. Santana felt wave after wave of relief wash over her, dying down as she decreased her suction and let go to gaze up at Brittany.

Brittany smiled down at her, mouth smeared with Santana's blood and a giddy, wicked grin. Santana cupped her face, thumbing over Brittany's cheekbones, marveling at the strength and fragility that lived in perfect balance within her. She loved Brittany so much, she couldn't decide if she wanted to gaze at her in adoration, or press her as close to her heart as possible.

Brittany decided for her. She curled up on Santana, pulling the blanket around her shoulders and burrowing into Santana's neck. They were both sated and happy and steeped in their love. The fresh blood they had consumed sat warm in their stomachs, strengthening their bond by the second. Santana pulled her impossibly closer, wanting to merge entirely. She couldn't imagine a better feeling.

Brittany's heartbeat seemed to be exceptionally strong tonight. Although it wasn't frantic or unsteady, it reverberated through Santana's body like a bass drum. Santana was about to comment on it when Brittany jerked, drawing her head back to look at Santana's face.

"What?" Santana asked, alarmed.

Brittany studied her face for a second before focusing on Santana's neck. She held her fingers to the mirror image of her own pulse point and waited for a few seconds. Then she looked up at Santana with wide, incredulous eyes. "Santana..." she breathed. "You- you have a pulse."

Santana's body surged at Brittany's words. What Brittany was saying was impossible.

Santana held her fingers to her neck, scooting away from Brittany to make sure she wasn't feeling the echoes of Brittany's pulse. She felt a faint thud beneath her fingers, clear as day. One pulse. Two pulses. She held her hand to her chest, horrified and amazed. Sure enough, there was something squeezing and pumping inside her ribs. It felt strange and almost painful after so long without it.

She got out of the coffin, checking again to make sure she wasn't just connecting with Brittany. She held her hand to her neck and looked at her limbs, naked and pale. As she did, she felt her fingers swell as her veins were filled with warmth.

"My- my heart's beating!" she stammered. "How did that _happen_?"


	16. Heartstop

Santana had never heard of a vampire with a pulse. What could have possibly happened to make her heart start beating again?

"Wow!" Brittany whispered. Her eyes were wide but joyous as she stared at Santana for a few seconds before laughing, an amazed, disbelieving laugh that made Santana's heart beat stronger. "Did Shelby say anything about her heart beating?"

"No!" Santana gasped. "She said some of her organs started working, but I think she would have mentioned a _pulse_! I would have been able to hear it!"

"Wow..." Brittany echoed. She was staring at Santana in amazement, mouth open, held up by a smile. "Maybe you're just one-of-a-kind! Actually, I _know_ you are. But maybe your immortality is too!"

Santana felt the edge wear off her panic as Brittany continued grinning at her. She looked down at her body, holding her naked limbs out as though they were foreign and gangly. She didn't know what to make of her sudden liveliness. It was alarming. And yet, as blood coursed through her, she felt warm, which soothed her. It was like being steeped in Brittany to the point of feeling all her muscles let go, floating. Her whole being felt like it was floating towards something light and good and strong.

But at the same time, it felt uncomfortable. Everything inside her rib cage felt like it was frantically adjusting to the rhythm that had just declared itself.

"I don't know what this means!" Santana gasped. "What if it means something horrible?"

"What could be horrible about a heartbeat?" Brittany said. "You're sexy with a pulse."

For a few seconds, Brittany's playfulness and flirtation felt inappropriate, as though she were trying to entice a patient before they went into surgery. But as Santana looked at Brittany, glowing against the crimson satin that lined her coffin, she felt herself warm between her legs again. It was the bond, of course. And yet, the way she felt it was so authentic, so real and alive and humming, it didn't feel like a reaction to Brittany's arousal. It felt organic, as though her body had initiated the urge to mate.

She knew that was what Brittany wanted. Brittany's eyes scoured the curves of Santana's body as she licked her lips, still grinning as a certain hunger took over.

"C'mere," Brittany beckoned, tilting her chin playfully. "Let's see if we can get that heart racing."

Santana was nervous, but intrigued. How would it feel to have two hearts beating while they made love? Would they synchronize, or would two separate tempos emerge, syncopating and accenting each other as they passed each other, swelling as a lick or a suck or a thrust excited them in surges? Would it throw off her rhythm? She found herself so tentative about it, she almost shook her head.

But Brittany was staring her down with a sultry gaze that dared her to refuse. Santana had never refused Brittany, and she didn't want to start now. But all the same, she had to wonder if Brittany was experiencing a transformation herself. Would she start to grow stronger from all the vampire blood she was ingesting? Cry blood?

The thought fluttered away as Brittany drew Santana back towards the bed, pulling her down on top of her. Brittany's body didn't have the same jolting heat it usually did, though it was still exciting and soft.

Brittany hummed into Santana's neck. "You're warmer. I like it."

Santana took a breath to steady herself as she nuzzled into Brittany's neck. She searched herself and found she still had the same control she'd had earlier. She wasn't worried she'd hurt Brittany.

Brittany was already sighing beneath her, rocking up as her hands canvassed Santana's back. "You're so fucking hot," she mumbled. "I don't ever want to get out of this coffin."

Santana hummed into Brittany's neck again, the dampness from their first round making their bodies already sticky. Santana found more of Brittany's sweat had clung to her than usual, and wondered for a moment if maybe she herself was sweating. But the thought was wiped out as Brittany ran her tongue over the shell of Santana's ear.

Santana whimpered at the wet noise. The sounds Brittany made were always the most erotic part of their lovemaking, and now the sounds and humidity were clouding Santana's mind as her mouth found its way to the fresh bite marks on Brittany's neck. She licked absentmindedly, finding enough fresh blood to coat her tongue.

"Drink," Brittany whispered. "You went a whole week without it..."

Santana whimpered again. Brittany was teasing her. She knew she shouldn't drink more from Brittany, who was still rebuilding her strength. But... a few little mouthfuls couldn't hurt, right? Brittany looked good: flushed and healthy.

Santana let her lips fasten around the wound and started sucking, gentle as to not bruise her too deeply.

"That's it," Brittany whispered, arching to give Santana more space.

Santana counted the number of times she swallowed, promising she wouldn't take more than five mouthfuls. When she swallowed the last heavenly gulp, she let her lips smack off, reluctant, but proud of her restraint. She loved Brittany too much to come close to sucking away her life force. Santana sighed and rested her head on Brittany's chest as she let the lightness of Brittany's blood swirl through her.

But Brittany scratched her nails down Santana's back and twisted so Santana's mouth was closer to her neck again. "Keep going," she urged.

"S'too much," Santana muttered in protest, closing her eyes to steel herself against temptation.

"Keep going," Brittany echoed. "Just a little more."

Santana looked up at Brittany, seeing her eyes flashing bright and lively, not the least bit pale or depleted. Resolve crumbling, she decided to allow herself just a few more sips. Brittany would tell her if she was feeling faint.

She lowered her head and resumed sucking, and as she did, she felt her heart start to race along with Brittany's. Suddenly everything sped up, and she was sucking harder as Brittany pressed her face into her neck.

"Yeah," Brittany gasped, hips arching up against Santana. "Just like that... Keep going 'til you drain me..."

At that Santana jolted up, alarmed. What was Brittany doing?

She realized with horror that they were already in the ground and Brittany had already consumed some of her blood, so all she would have to do to turn Brittany would be to drain her.

Brittany grabbed Santana's head and pressed her back into her neck. "C'mon, keep going," she panted. She pressed down with such surprising strength, Santana had to fight to lift her head to speak.

"Britt, _no_!" Santana gasped.

Brittany struggled for a moment longer, mashing Santana's lips against her neck with nonhuman force. "Keep going!" she whimpered.

Santana used the full power of her biceps to push herself up and out of the coffin. She stared down at Brittany, wondering how Brittany could suggest something so horrible in a moment of closeness and passion. She stared at Brittany with huge eyes, wondering what had possessed her. Brittany was writhing about in the coffin, eyes closed and seeming to itch with a need for Santana. There was something animal about her that scared Santana.

"Brittany, stop it!" Santana yelled.

Brittany's wriggling continued for a moment before she settled against the sheets and opened her eyes. As she did, she jerked, as though waking from a strange dream. Her eyes darted up to Santana before she shuddered and sat up.

"Oh god," Brittany murmured. "I- I'm sorry, Santana. I didn't mean it..." She looked at the walls of the coffin around her, ashamed.

Santana calmed, seeing Brittany had regained her ability to reason, but was still upset that Brittany had seemingly lost control.

"Did you mean to?" she asked.

"Did I mean to say that?"

"Yeah. And you know... be forceful."

Brittany bit her lip and her brow furrowed. "I mean... a little. You like when I'm frisky."

"Yeah, but not _crazy_," Santana said, still alarmed.

Brittany's brows knit closer together and Santana realized she was on the verge of tears. Santana wanted to comfort her, but she was wary of getting too close to her after she'd done something so unpredictable. She decided to try to calm Brittany with her words.

She made no motion towards Brittany, but let her voice float down from its high, hard panic. "I know you want to know what it's like. And I know immortality sounds appealing from your standpoint. But this isn't like getting a tattoo over Spring break or dying your hair."

Brittany's eyes narrowed as she looked up at Santana, but her hands stayed limp in her lap.

"Don't talk to me like I'm a clueless teenager," she muttered.

Santana felt guilty at Brittany's accusation, but she knew there was a grain of truth to it. On this subject, she did consider Brittany clueless. But she couldn't say that without hurting Brittany's feelings.

She sighed, not knowing what to say. She wanted Brittany to know how much she appreciated the sacrifice Brittany was all too willing to make for her, however foolish and uninformed. But Brittany didn't need to become a vampire to prove her love and loyalty. Santana had no doubts there.

Brittany looked down at the sheets, drawing her knees to her chest. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I shouldn't have done that."

Santana wanted to give Brittany the satisfaction of having an open, honest conversation about why she was so against Brittany turning, but she couldn't do that now, when they were both naked and sticky and alarmed. So she bought herself some time. "Let's wait to talk about it until we know more about what's going on with me." A thought occurred to her and she clung to it desperately. "I might not even be able to turn people now. I don't know what I am. So I don't want to take even the tiniest risk with you." She knew that she was incorrectly implying she was open to some negotiation on the topic of Brittany's mortality, but she felt obligated to pacify Brittany right now.

Brittany nodded, chin still tucked down. "Okay. I'm sorry."

Brittany looked around, seeming to collect herself. The lust that had shrouded the room before had evaporated, and now it felt cold and stark around them. Britany reached for her clothes, and as she did, a drop of blood fell from her neck onto the floor.

A drop of blood.

Santana remembered the stain in the back of Mr. Pierce's car.

"Britt, are your parents home?" she asked.

Brittany frowned and shook her head. "No. Why?"

"We need to clean the upholstery in your dad's car as soon as possible," Santana said.

Brittany nodded in agreement, standing to pull her pants on. "How, though? You said it's hard to get out."

Santana tried not to cringe, knowing it would probably be impossible to return the upholstery to its previous pristine cream color. But she had to try. "I have this kit that works pretty well on leather."

Brittany quirked her eyebrow. "How often have had you to clean blood out of leather?"

Santana screwed her mouth up, resisting the urge to smile at Brittany's fetish joke. "Well, when blood is the only think you can eat or drink, you end up spilling a lot. Think about how many times you've spilled a glass of water."

Brittany's eyebrows lifted at the thought. "Yeah, that would suck," she said. "Water's easy to clean up."

Santana nodded and finished getting dressed. Then she headed for the stairs. But when she got there, she froze. It was almost morning.

"Shit," she whispered. "I can't go up there."

"Morning _already_?" Brittany said, incredulous.

"Well, we did drive all the way to Shelby's," Santana shrugged. "The nights are getting shorter, with summer coming and all."

Brittany screwed up her mouth, unsure what to do. "Do you want me to try to get the stain out myself?"

Santana shook her head. "It's complicated. You have to time it exactly, and use a special buffing cloth...I'll do it tonight when the sun goes down. As long as your parents aren't home."

"They won't be."

"Okay, good," Santana said, relieved. "Well, I guess I'll just... go back to bed." She looked around, annoyed that she had to stay down in the basement for another ten hours.

Brittany seemed to perk up with an idea. "Unless..." she said, coy.

Santana looked at her and raised her eyebrows as if to say _Unless what?_

"Well..." Brittany began. "You can eat food and cry water and you have a pulse..." She tried to keep her hope from bubbling up too high. "Maybe you can go out in the sun."

Santana shivered at the thought. She hadn't seen daylight for decades. Once shortly after being turned, she'd cut her curfew too close, and arrived back at Quinn's house feeling as though she were trudging through an oven. Her skin had gotten painfully tight and hot and leathery and she saw herself steaming. Quinn, in a rare moment of maternal concern, skipped the admonishment and rubbed a healing salve over Santana's exposed skin, whispering words of comfort and reassurance that she would be okay soon. It had been so painful, Quinn hadn't needed to punish her for disobedience.

So it was understandable that even forty five years later, the thought of experimenting with daylight was scary to Santana. Brittany didn't know the pain she might experience.

"I don't know, Britt," Santana said, reluctant. "I'm not sure I'm ready to test that out."

"Why not?" Brittany said. "Shelby said she could go out in the sun and it doesn't hurt her. You're probably the same."

"Right, but that happened over the course of years, not _hours_," Santana objected.

Brittany backed off, seeing the fear in Santana's eyes. "Okay," she said, gentle. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

Brittany turned to go, and as she did, Santana saw the raw bite marks on her neck. They were still trickling blood, and a deep bruise was forming around the wound.

"Wait," Santana said, beckoning her back. "I don't want you going out with those."

Brittany stopped at the foot of the stairs. "What? Why?"

"Because."

"But you always left them there before..." she said with a puzzled pout.

"Before I knew your about dad, yeah," Santana said with a pointed look.

Brittany looked ashamed, dropping her gaze to the floor. Santana felt the need to reassure her.

"I know your heart is as pure as pure can be, Britt," Santana murmured. "And I know you're proud of your bites for different reasons than most people. And I love those reasons." Santana gave her a soft smile. "But I don't want your parents getting angry at you, and I don't want anyone coming after me. Okay?" She bent her head forward to capture Brittany's gaze.

Brittany sighed and stepped forward, tilting her head so the bites were easy to see. Santana held up her almost-healed wrist and rubbed the smear of blood there onto Brittany's skin. Brittany looked sad, but resigned, as the bite marks and surrounding bruise sealed up and vanished.

As Brittany turned to go, Santana caught her wrist and pulled her back. She placed her lips gently on Brittany's, wishing she could kiss away the pout that rested there. As they kissed, she felt their heartbeats sync together, creating a united pulse in their lips. It felt good. Brittany must have felt it too, because she smiled into the kiss and when she pulled away, she looked calm and happy.

"See you tonight?" Brittany asked.

Santana nodded. "I'll meet you at your house with the cleaning stuff," she said. "Have fun in class."

"If I can stay awake," Brittany grumbled. She turned and started up the stairs, and Santana tried not to feel guilty about keeping Brittany up all night.

"You'll do great, baby," Santana said, settling back into her coffin. "Love you."

"Love you too," Brittany chirped, opening the basement door and giving Santana one last smile before she left.

Santana sighed and settled back into her coffin that was still warm and smelled like Brittany. She took a deep breath, hoping it would help her drift towards sleep. The satin sheets seemed to have retained a warmth that was deeper and hotter than usual, and she realized that it wasn't the sheets at all, but her own skin. After adjusting her pillow and back, smoothing the wrinkles out of the sheets, she settled in to fall asleep.

And then she realized that was going to be quite difficult. Her heart sounded like it was banging around in her chest. She wasn't worked up or out of breath; she was simply not used to having any kind of noise in her basement when she was going to sleep.

Santana became irritated at her heart. Why was it so freaking _loud_? Why did it have to beat so unrelentingly? She was certain the sound would drive her insane. She grew even more agitated. How the hell was she supposed to sleep with this racket? She rolled onto her side, hoping a different angle would make it a little quieter. But it was no use. Her heart kept _banging, banging, banging_, the afterpulse of each beat ricocheting off her ribs. It was so uncomfortable. The more irritated she got, the louder it became.

She honestly wondered if she was ever going to be able to sleep again.

After minutes of tossing and turning, she wondered if perhaps she had more control over her heart than she thought. If she became agitated, her heart started beating faster and louder. Therefore, if she could become calm, it would get slower and quieter. She imagined Brittany placing her delicate, warm hand on Santana's chest, smiling down at her, whispering that everything would be okay and she would eventually get some sleep. As she imagined Brittany's hand resting steady on her breast, she felt her heart settle, and quiet, and dull, until eventually she felt nothing at all.

Wait. Now she felt nothing at all.

Her heart had stopped again.

If she hadn't known it would start banging again, she would have let herself get worked into a frenzy wondering why her heart had stopped. It had only started beating an hour ago, and she didn't like the unpredictability of a faulty organ. She liked things to operate simply. To that end, being a vampire suited her. If she drank blood and avoided the sun, she would be healthy. If she didn't, she would grow ill. It was far more complicated for humans, who had to worry about proteins and vitamins and exercize and cholesterol and a myriad of other things. She thought for a fleeting moment about how delicate Brittany was in that that respect, and grew worried that something would befall her organically. But she didn't want her heart to start clunking around in her chest again, so she let her mind drift back to simpler, calmer things, like the way Brittany's breath felt on her shoulder while she slept, and the way her eyelids fluttered while she dreamed. Thinking of those things, Santana drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Santana awoke right at dusk, and only had to wait a few minutes before venturing upstairs. The first thing she noticed was the her heart was beating, soft and steady, without any of the furious banging from before. It was almost soothing. She went upstairs, seeing the last hints of sunlight still painted the edges of the otherwise night sky. She collected her leather cleaning kit and ran to Brittany's house. As she got closer, her heart got louder and more frantic. By the time she arrived, it was hammering like a war drum.

Although the Pierce residence was one of the last places in the world she wanted to be, she knew she'd have to go inside to clean the bloodstain out of the upholstery. She tried to calm herself by saying this would be the only time she ever had to venture inside, and that Brittany's parents weren't home, and that nothing bad had ever happened to her inside before. But these thoughts provided little comfort, and did nothing to quiet her heart.

Brittany was surprised to be woken by Santana's lips on her cheek, but grinned up at her. She dressed wordlessly and they tiptoed down to the garage, where Brittany turned on the flourescent lights and opened the back door of the Rolls. Santana cringed at the redish brown stain on the cream upholstery, and set to work with a sequence of cleaning fluids and buffing cloths that she knew from experience would do the least damage to the leather while lifting as much of the blood as possible. After twenty minutes of careful work, she announced she was done. Brittany peered inside and gave an approving nod. Santana could still see the faint outlines of three drops of blood, with a slight hint of orange streaked around them, and the leather was damp from the cleaning supplies, but she was confident that to an unknowing, human eye, they would be almost invisible.

Santana asked where Brittany wanted her to put the dirty rags she had used to rub the solutions with, and Brittany laced her fingers into Santana's, leading her towards the staircase that descended to the basement where the washing machine was. Santana went along, feeling her pulse calming now that she had accomplished her mission and could leave the premises as soon as they had disposed of the cloths.

But once they got into the basement, Santana stiffened as though someone had held her at gunpoint. Her heart started banging louder than the war drums she had felt in her chest previously.

"What?" Brittany asked when she saw Santana standing frozen. Her eyes squinted to see in the dark.

Santana remained motionless, shoulders rigid, eyes locked on the tiny door of the root cellar. Brittany kept looking around, eyes darting between Santana and the gardening supplies and old boxes that cluttered the basement.

Santana's nostrils stung with the smell that had hit her square in the face when she walked into the basement. "Britt," she said, swallowing to unstick her throat. "We need to get out of the house. Right now."

"What? Why?" Brittany asked, frowning in confusion.

Santana lifted her hand, pointing toward the small door of the root cellar.

"Because there's another vampire in there."


	17. Haven

Instead of freezing in fear as Santana had done, Brittany tilted her head and frowned at the little door of the root cellar.

"Really?" she asked, scrunching up her nose. "How can you tell?"

"I can smell her," Santana hissed, urging Brittany to keep her voice down, although anything they said could be heard through the door.

"Is it someone you know?" Brittany asked, dangerously curious.

Santana shook her head, her motion quick to convey the danger they were in. She pointed up the stairs, urging Brittany to get far away from danger. Brittany got the hint and tiptoed up the stairs, though again, whoever was asleep in the root cellar could hear everything.

When they reached the kitchen, Brittany closed the door leading down to the basement. "Want to go out to dinner?" she whispered.

Santana gaped at her. "Are you seriously not worried about the vampire in your basement?"

Brittany shrugged. "I mean, I guess, yeah. But we're not staying here, so it's fine."

"That's - that's not the point, Britt!" Santana sputtered.

"Well, what are we supposed to do?"

Thinking quickly, Santana grabbed Brittany's wrist. "You're coming home with me," she said, her words firm, indicating it was demand, not a suggestion.

"Did you drive?"

"No, I ran."

Brittany's eyebrows arched up. "You want me to run five miles to your house?"

Santana gasped in exasperation.

"Okay, just... drive _straight_ to my house. I'm gonna go talk to Quinn."

"Can I get some food on the way?" Brittany asked.

Santana was annoyed. Clearly Brittany didn't understand that danger she was in.

"I guess, but don't fool around."

"Okay. Can I grab my laptop first?" she asked, pointing upstairs.

"No!"

Brittany looked annoyed at Santana's urgency and concern. "Jeez, okay..." she muttered.

"Britt, I don't want you in _any_ danger. Promise me you'll go right to my house and stay inside with the doors locked while I talk to Quinn."

"Okay."

"Promise me!"

"Okay, I promise!" Brittany said, annoyed.

Santana looked at her with a serious, demanding face for a moment before relenting. She walked Brittany out to her car. "I'll see you in twenty minutes," she said, giving Brittany a kiss on the cheek.

"See ya," Brittany said, hopping into the driver's seat.

Santana waited until Brittany had driven off the property before running to Quinn's house as fast as she could. Without knocking, she burst through her door, startling Quinn, who was sitting on her chaise lounge with a teacup full of what smelled like O negative. Santana stood in the doorway panting for a minute, a strange burning filling her chest. She tried to stop her panting, not wanting Quinn to know anything about her transformation that was causing her to breathe. But as she tried to still her breath, she felt uncomfortable, so she gave up and gasped a few times.

"There's a vampire!" she heaved. "A vampire in the root cellar!"

Quinn, having settled from her initial startle, frowned up at Santana. "What root cellar?"

"Brittany's root cellar!"

"I thought you slept in there all the time," Quinn said, turning back to her book with an air of disinterest.

"I used to, before I found out her dad manages Satan's finances," Santana snapped back. "But there is a vampire in her house!"

"Watch out for those vampires, they'll suck the fun out of everything," Quinn said, her sarcasm so dripping Santana started to seethe.

"Quinn, this is serious! I'm asking for your _help_!" The word _help_ came out so forced, it sounded like a yelp. Santana hated asking for help, and she _hated_ being at Quinn's mercy, but she didn't know what else to do.

Quinn sat up straighter and put down her book. "Was it someone you know?"

"No, I said it was a stranger!" Santana said, annoyed.

Quinn bit her lip, frowning. She thought for a moment before seeming to brush the subject off. "Well, there are plenty of vampires who would love to get revenge on those silver-toting bigots. I'm sure it had nothing to do with Brittany."

"_Please_," Santana sneered. "Anyone trying to get revenge on the Fellowship would love to use Brittany as a hostage. I'm not letting her out of my sight until I know who is in that basement and what they want."

"So where is she now?" Quinn asked, seeming to challenge Santana's assertion that she wasn't letting Brittany out of her sight.

"She's on her way to my house." Santana paused for a moment, drawing inward from her rage-spewing to sense Brittany for safety. "She's - she's safe. She's... eating French fries," she said, tasting the satisfying salt on her own tongue.

Quinn sighed and looked at Santana with weary eyes. "If you didn't know who the vampire was, why didn't you just have Brittany rescind his or her invitation to enter the house?"

Santana felt smacked in the face by her own stupidity. Of _course_. That was simplest solution, at the least for the time being.

"I didn't think of that," Santana mumbled.

Quinn gave her a tight smile and looked back at her book. "Let me know if there are any other crises, like her forgetting how to talk," she mocked.

Santana balled her fists, but said nothing. All her energy had to be saved for figuring out how to keep Brittany safe.

She ran home, arriving just as Brittany pulled into the driveway.

"Hey!" Brittany chirped. "I got some French fries. Want some?"

She held up the container and Santana felt her mouth water at the smell. Still, Santana was confused. Why would Brittany offer her food?

But then she remembered that she hadn't gotten sick from the cheese on Brittany's pizza. So, accordingly, Brittany had adjusted her thinking and behavior. Brittany was planning on sharing food with her from now on.

Santana's heart fluttered at the thought of going out to dinner and not getting any strange looks. She imagined sharing bites, remarking on the flavors with adoring enthusiasm. It was so romantic, and something she had always wished she had experienced as a human. But her mother had been strict with her, not allowing her to date, save for school dances, which were heavily chaperoned.

Santana thought for a moment about the red dress her mother had sewn for her for her first school dance. It had been for her sophomore year homecoming, and it had been her favorite dress she'd ever worn. Thinking of that, her heart squeezed a little bit. She missed her mother. And, now that her mother was dead, she would never get to tell her how much she appreciated that dress. It made her sad in a way she hadn't felt since she'd thought Brittany had fallen out of love with her.

"Hello?" Brittany asked, French fries still raised towards Santana.

Santana shook herself out of the memory. "Sorry," she said. "I was just remembering something."

Brittany studied Santana and then, lowering her voice, she said, "You're remembering something sad."

Santana sighed, partly relieved and partly embarrassed that Brittany could feel her feelings. "My human mother."

Brittany gave Santana a genuine pout, but one that indicated she didn't know what to say. So instead, she drew closer to Santana, warming her.

Santana felt herself lift and knew Brittany was thinking of something happy to help her feel better. "Have one of these," she said, tipping the French fries toward Santana. "They make me happy when I'm sad sometimes."

Hesitantly, Santana reached for a French fry. She studied it, the way the oil glinted from the lights from the house and the moon above. It did look delicious.

She held it to her face, smelling, feeling saliva pool in her mouth. Then she took a small bite, feeling the starch particles separate on her tongue, the salt making her mouth water even more. It was absolutely delicious.

She hummed and nodded, then waited. If she were fully vampire, she would become ill and vomit up the French fry with a cup or two of blood within a few seconds. But ten seconds passed, and she didn't feel the slightest bit queasy. Brittany, who was looking at her with a hesitant grin, beamed at her and shook the cardboard scoop in her hand, encouraging Santana to eat more.

Santana finished the first fry before taking another, and then another, until Brittany giggled and said, "Hey, leave some for me!" and stuffing three in her mouth at once.

Looking at each other with wide smiles, they devoured the French fries in a matter of seconds. Santana was so giddy at the experience of eating for the first time in fifty years, she all but forgot about the vampire in Brittany's basement. But not for long.

"What did Quinn say?" Brittany asked, trying to keep the mood light.

"She said that you should just rescind the vampire's invitation to be in your house."

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Why didn't I think of that?" she said, cheerful despite her annoyance at herself.

"Because you're not around vampires much," Santana shrugged.

"What are you talking about, I'm around vampires all the time."

Santana raised her eyebrows, gesturing to the near-empty carton of fries. "You sure about that?" she asked, pointing out that she was some kind of hybrid now.

Brittany's face shifted into a playful grin. She leaned in to Santana and asked, "Does my blood still smell delicious?" Her words were so tempting and sultry, Santana forgot all about the pleasantness of the fries in her belly, eyes narrowing in on the dull flicker in Brittany's neck.

She swallowed. "Yes."

Brittany hummed in sultry amusement. "Pretty sure you're still a vampire, then."

Brittany shifted towards Santana, tempting her with her carotid artery. Santana stared at it, hungry, but when Brittany's foot crunched in the gravel, she snapped out of it.

She cleared her throat. "Okay, yes, you're delicious. But no way am I drinking from you after I had so much last night when..." She stopped, not wanting to sound accusing. But she hadn't forgotten Brittany's attempt to trick her into taking her mortality.

Brittany shifted away and tucked her chin down. "Sorry," she murmured. "I don't want to trick you into doing anything you don't want to do." She paused. "But I do want to talk about it."

Santana shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I know," she said. "We can, uh, we can talk about that later. At the moment we have more pressing matters at hand. Like why there was a vampire in your basement. Do you have any idea how she got there?"

"She probably walked inside and it got late so she went to sleep and we just got there before she woke up."

"Britt... vampires can't walk in without an invitation."

Brittany's eyebrows lifted as she remembered that crucial detail. "Oh yeah..." she said, wrinkling her nose. Then her face set in a frown. "That doesn't make any sense..."

The anxiety of their current predicament soaking into her again, Santana felt uneasy. Despite her supernatural vision, she knew that someone could be spying on them at this very moment, plotting to kidnap Brittany. There was only one way to keep her safe.

"Come with me," Santana said, taking Brittany's hand.

Brittany followed dutifully, trying to keep up with Santana's speed. Upon entering the house, Santana deadbolted the door, something she rarely did, and marched into her study.

Her study could hardly be called a study. It was merely a cramped, stark-white room that housed her computer, dozens of haphazard stacks of paper, and three tall, thin file cabinets. It was windowless and colorless.

"I was never sure what to do with this room when I was cleaning," Brittany mused. "Because on the one hand, it's not dirty. But it's so..."

"Messy? Yeah, I know," Santana said. "When I retired I gave up on keeping it organized. I figured, as long as I paid my bills on time and knew where my keys and phone and computer were, it wasn't a problem."

Brittany giggled, and then said softly to herself, "When you retired..." She thumbed the edge of a stack of paper. "It's weird to think you're so young and yet you had this whole career before I met you."

"Hey, someone's gotta do midnight real estate," Santana said, sounding weary at the reminder of her previous career. "Vampires were still in the coffin then, so regular realtors didn't know what vamps were looking for. Take this room, for example. A human wouldn't want a windowless office with a trap door to the basement. But it's perfect for a vamp who wants to work during the day."

Santana unlocked a file cabinet, keys clanging against the metal. She flicked through the files, looking for a specific document.

"What are you doing?" Brittany said.

"Finding the deed to the house," Santana said nonchalantly. "I need to put you on it."

Brittany's eyes went wide. Then they relaxed and she let out a little giggle. "I always imagined you'd be a little more romantic about asking me to move in."

Santana paused and looked up at Brittany with a bashful grin. "I wasn't, actually."

Brittany's smile grew mystified before Santana clarified.

"I mean, not at I don't want you to. I do. But... I didn't know if you were ready for that."

Brittany looked around the room, biting down a smile as she scanned the messy piles of paper.

Seeing Brittany's unreadable response, Santana turned back to the cabinet and kept flicking through files. Finally she found the file with her address printed on the tab and pulled it out with a flourish. "He we go," she said. She opened the folder and found the deed, writing Brittany's name on it. She held the folder out to Brittany with a pen, hoping she would take it and sign without questions. She was just trying to protect Brittany, after all.

To her relief, Brittany took the folder and pen. But then she paused. "Okay, this is really nice and all, but... why are you putting me on the title of your house? You know I can't afford to help keep the place nice, and I don't know how I'd tell my parents why I'm living here."

Santana realized her reason for adding Brittany to the deed wasn't as obvious as she'd hoped. "I'm just trying to keep you safe. If you live here, or at least own it, no vampire can enter without your permission. Which I really hope you won't take advantage of if you get mad at me someday."

Brittany clucked her tongue in adoration. "Santana, I would never do that to you."

Santana took a deep breath through her nose. "I sure hope not. I love this place. I bought it just a few years after it was built, when it still smelled like fresh sawdust and paint."

Brittany gazed at Santana for a few more moments, then looked down at the deed, frowning. "I don't know, Santana... Are you _sure_ you're okay with this? I mean, it's your _house_."

"Says the girl willing to give up her mortality for me," Santana said with a forced wink.

At that, Brittany laughed, tilting her head to admit Santana had a point. If she was willing to give up her mortality, Santana giving up half the ownership to her house wasn't a big deal. She bit her lips and nodded. "Okay, I'll sign. But are you gonna be whisked out the door when I do?"

"Who knows," Santana shrugged. "There isn't much precedent for humans and vampires cohabitating."

Brittany raised her eyebrow. "I thought you were just adding me to the deed as a formality to keep me safe."

Santana grew flustered. "Yeah, yeah, of course. You don't have to move in until you're ready. It's not exactly human-friendly yet. Needs a functioning kitchen and bigger bed."

Brittany grinned as she leaned over the desk, scribbling her signature with a flourish before standing up and wrapping her arms around Santana's neck. "How about a double wide coffin?"

Santana felt her insides melt as she gazed into Brittany's eyes and found herself nodding. "Whatever you want, sweetheart," she murmured.

Brittany pressed their lips together, holding still as they celebrated their new living arrangement. Then she pulled back, triumphant, smiling as she said, "Guess you didn't get whisked out, huh?"

Santana smiled at Britt, adoring her freshness and wonder at the world, both vampire and human. She tried not to laugh as she said, "It's not official until we have it notarized."

Brittany just shrugged and said, "Okay. Let's go do it."

Santana slid her hands into Brittany's, lacing their fingers together in excitement and adoration. "Let's do it," she echoed. "I know someone who does midnight notary."

"Of course you do," Brittany chuckled.

Santana's face was stretched tight in a smile. There was something contagious about her enthusiasm for everything, her playfulness and hope. Even before their bond had been as strong as iron, it had been impossible not to smile around Brittany. Well, after Santana got past her usual defensiveness. That defensiveness seemed a distant memory to her now. She had even smiled and thanked one of her blood sources a few weeks ago, to which he shivered a bit, skittering back to his car, confused.

Brittany rocked forward and kissed Santana again, letting her lips smack as she rocked back, pulled Santana with her. "Let's get thee to a notary," she said in a mock British accent.

Santana drove them to Figgins' house and led Brittany up the steps to the door. She rang the doorbell incessantly until Figgins appeared, rolling his eyes when he saw it was Santana. He opened the door and stuck his head out.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Miss Lopez, I can't sign papers you drafted yourself declaring Quinn an unfit Maker. Good _night_," he said, moving to close the door.

Santana stuck her foot in the jamb. "No, wait," she pleaded. "It's not about that."

Figgins eyed her, eyebrows arched in impatience.

Santana huffed. "I can't believe you still think that's why I'm here every time. It was forty years ago, god..." She rolled her eyes, embarrassed at her adolescent attempts to get Quinn to leave her alone. "I just want you to notarize a change on the deed of my house," she said, holding the document out. "I want to add Brittany." She glanced at Brittany, who was studying Santana and Figgins' interaction with amusement.

"This is your companion?" Figgins asked, nodding toward Brittany.

"Yeah," Santana said, impatient. "My girlfriend."

At that, Figgins paused, studying Brittany. He seemed intrigued by her, but respectfully. "Any particular reason you had to come to my house instead of waiting for office hours?"

Santana straightened up, holding the paper out to him with more urgency. "It's a matter of her safety."

Figgins frowned at her vagueness. "Well, Miss Lopez, it's not customary for vampires and humans to..."

Santana stopped him with a single quirk of her eyebrow and warning twist of her head. "I wasn't aware you were so concerned with customs, Figgins."

Figgins seemed to blanch at that, and opened the door wider, taking the document from Santana's hand. "Let me look this over," he said, adjusting his spectacles on his nose. He tilted his head back and squinted, eyes tracing over lines for what felt like five minutes. Then he looked up at Brittany and asked. "This your signature?"

"Yep."

Figgins nodded, eyes scanning for a moment longer before he sighed. "Very well," he said. "I'll be right back." He took the deed into the house and Brittany and Santana were left outside with the noise of the crickets.

"So..." Brittany grinned. "What do you have on him?"

Santana held a finger to her lips, but she couldn't help but smirk. She'd have to wait to tell Brittany about Figgins' stint as a haunted house vampire at a theme park until he couldn't hear them laugh about it.

Figgins returned a minute later with the document, signed and stamped with his official seal. "Congratulations, Miss Pierce," he said, sarcasm seeming to drip through his accent. "You are now the co-owner of a fine piece of property, along with this pain in the fangs known as Miss Lopez."

Brittany bounced on her heals in excitement. "Thanks," she chirped.

Santana turned to go, but Figgins cleared his throat. "Miss Lopez," he called.

Santana turned around and raised her eyebrows in annoyance.

"My fee," he said.

"Sure thing, Count Chocula," she said with mocking cheerfulness. "Do you want one red satin cape or two?"

Figgins' mouth hardened in defense and he frowned at her for a moment before closing the door and turning out the porch light. Santana smiled in triumph, steering Brittany back to the car.

But Brittany stopped her. "Santana, that was mean."

Santana sighed and looked back at Figgins' door. She hated to back down when she was ahead in a competition, though she wasn't sure what this competition was about.

"Fine," she huffed. She opened her purse and pulled out a fifty dollar bill, tucking it under the door mat before ringing the bell and speeding back to the car. She couldn't help but notice that Brittany was feeling smug about making Santana do the right thing.

When they arrived back at the house, Santana grew apprehensive. How much power would Brittany have over it now? Would she be able to enter at all, without Brittany's permission?

Brittany laced their fingers together again, walking pressed close to Santana's side. Santana unlocked the door and opened it before raising one foot, waiting to see what would happen when she tried to enter. She gingerly placed it down on the other side of the threshold, relieved when she found no invisible block. She felt Brittany warm with relief too. She took another step.

"Good," Brittany said, bobbing her head. "Nothing's changed."

Santana nodded, looking around the living room and the part of the kitchen she could see. "Needs a bit of humanizing, but I think we should take it," she said, pretending they were real estate shopping.

"Totally," Brittany said. "And we should install a hot tub."

Santana nodded, imagining Brittany sliding into a bubbling tub with her bikini on. "We should."

Brittany beamed at her, loving their proposed living arrangement. She was ready to move in, Santana could tell, and her heart fluttered at the thought of waking up to Brittany every night.

"First things first," Santana said. "We need to banish that vamp from your parents' house."

Brittany bobbed her head, growing serious. "Right," she said. "First things first. But then can we come back here and have we-just-shacked-up sex?"

Santana grinned at her, though nervousness was starting to creeps through her limbs and stomach. "If all goes well, definitely."

But as Brittany led her back out the door, calm and confident as ever, Santana couldn't help but feel like she was being led into a trap.


	18. Cocoa Lux

Without asking if Santana wanted to drive, Brittany got in her car, double-clicking the locks first so Santana could get in the passenger seat. Santana was glad to not be driving; she wanted to focus on staying calm, as to not infect Brittany with her anxiety. But she obviously hadn't learned how yet, because after a minute, Brittany reached over and put her hand on Santana's knee.

"It's okay, baby," Brittany cooed. "We'll just go in there, I'll kick her out, and then we'll go back to your house and have sex."

Santana gripped Brittany's hand, focusing on slowing her heart and lungs and the quivering that sat in the pit of her stomach, wriggling through her arms and legs. Brittany glanced at her with concern, gripping the steering wheel harder. "Baby, are you okay?"

Santana swallowed and nodded, desperately trying to think of something happy and lovely so she could calm down. But as she wracked through her mind, all she felt was an acceleration of her fear. She started trembling and Brittany grew more concerned.

"Sweetie..." Brittany cooed, eyebrows knitting. "I've never felt you this worked up."

Santana swallowed and unsuccessfully tried to smooth out her voice. "I'm just worried something bad will happen."

Brittany took a deep breath and bit her bottom lip, nodding. Santana was relieved that she was acknowledging the danger they were heading into for once, but she didn't think Brittany would ever understand the magnitude. As a mortal, she couldn't.

Brittany tried for the remainder of the car ride to help lighten Santana's anxiety, but it wasn't as effective as it had been before.

They arrived at the Pierce house and trudged through the garage. When they reached the door leading down to the basement, Santana clung to Brittany's hand harder and held her there for a moment. She stared deep into Brittany's eyes, hoping this wouldn't be the last time she looked into them.

"When you open the door, give the command right away. Don't wait for eye contact or anything. Just say it and then move out of the way so she doesn't smack into you on her way out."

Brittany nodded, taking a deep breath, and looking, for the first time, like she was actually nervous.

As Brittany reached for the handle, Santana thought of something. "Wait!"

Brittany seemed to startle, turning back to Santana.

"Make sure you don't kick me out at the same time."

Brittany nodded and gripped the doorknob. Taking a breath, she twisted it, flung it open, and shouted down the stairs, "Whoever you are down there, I rescind your invitation to be in this house!"

Santana's every muscle was tense in anticipation of the burst that would fly past them on its way out the door. But nothing came. They waited in silence for ten seconds before Santana shifted a bit.

Brittany turned back to her with a frown. "Did you hear anything?"

Santana shook her head, tilting her chin up to peer down the stairs. In the dark, she saw nothing but the gardening bench near the stairs, its stacks of terra cotta pots and a bucket of gardening supplies on the floor. She sniffed the air and found the lingering scent of the vampire from the night before. But it wasn't as strong, and the air below wasn't stirring.

"She's not there," Santana said. She was partly relieved that they were in no imminent danger, but now she was perplexed. How was she going to keep Brittany safe if there was a strange vampire roaming about that could enter the Pierce house whenever she pleased?

Brittany's mouth scrunched to the side in a frustrated expression. "Now what?" she asked. "Do we wait until daybreak and see if she comes back?"

Santana shook her head. There was no way she was going to spend the rest of the night in the creepy Pierce house, purchased with the blood of innocent vampires. "We go home."

Brittany nodded, threaded her fingers into Santana's again, and led them back toward her car. On the way out of the kitchen, Brittany paused, led Santana over to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of chocolate syrup, winking at Santana before escorting her outside.

This time, rather than a sense of nearing doom, Santana felt herself warm with relief. Nothing bad had happened. Brittany was still safe. They could go relax for the rest of the night and then curl up in Santana's coffin at daybreak.

They drove in silence, and Brittany hummed an unrecognizable tune. It helped Santana calm down.

"You said we go home," Brittany said suddenly, a grin spreading across her face. "Home..."

Santana flushed, realizing that she and Brittany had the same home now. It felt so right, and yet so exciting.

Brittany put her hand in Santana's again. "No vampires can come in our house without my permission."

Santana nodded, but was struck by Brittany's casual use of the phrase _our house_.

Brittany suddenly perked up. "Hey, does that mean Quinn can't come in without my permission?"

Santana was intrigued by the possibility. "I hope so. It'd be great to have a place she can't bug me. I might even be able to get her back for some of the crap she's pulled on me. With your participation, of course."

Brittany gave Santana a conspiratorial smile, but it faded quickly. "Well... maybe a little. But you two should try to get along better."

Santana gave a half-hearted shrug. She had no hopes of anything changing with Quinn. She'd tried just about everything already.

They arrived home safely. As they entered the living room Brittany's face lit up in a playful smirk. She let their hands tangle between them as she led Santana over to the couch, pushing her down.

"I hope you're planning to make good on your promise," she said, sliding into a straddle.

Brittany's sensuality washed over Santana. She knew Brittany was feeling frisky - it was contageous between them, after all- and she felt her hips start to warm and tingle. She let Brittany scoot closer in her straddle, pressing their bodies together and Santana back into the couch. Santana felt the cushion give, sighing beneath her, mirroring the relief she felt to be in the one safe place in the world for Brittany. She loved that Brittany was now safe in her house, and loved even more that she trusted herself. She wouldn't lose control, and she wouldn't let Brittany tempt her into it. They were solid and warm and, for now, safe.

Brittany pressed her hands under Santana's shirt. Santana felt her fangs prick out and her stomach twitch as Brittany slid her hands up, over Santana's bra, feeling her warm curves in her palms, gripping lightly she kissed Santana long and deep, as though she were drinking from her. Santana felt for a moment as though she were, so connected and liquid was the feeling. She savored it, feeling her energy flow into Brittany like a life force. She would gladly have surrendered anything to Brittany at that moment. Her will, her blood, her body, and her assertion that Brittany was better off human.

Because, of course it hadn't escaped her that Brittany would age. She wasn't afraid of Brittany aging. Older women were beautiful and sexy in their own right. But the thought of Brittany dying, disintegrating into dust, as though she had never existed? That was unbearable. Santana couldn't fathom a world without Brittany. Now she had known light and goodness and love, and the world was bigger and brighter. It would never feel right to go back into the dark.

Brittany managed to remove Santana's shirt and lift it over her head, pawing at Santana's chest with graceful hands for a moment before removing her bra. Santana love being bare in front of Brittany, because for once, her outside matched her inside. Being naked felt most natural to her now. She was glad when Brittany wriggled out of her own dress and lifted up long enough to remove Santana's pants and panties. But then she did something Santana wasn't expecting. She slid backwards, pushing herself across the floor, until she reached her purse. Then, after sliding off her panties, she took out the bottle of chocolate syrup. Her smile grew catlike, and Santana couldn't help but smirk in return.

She'd read about people using food in their sex play, but she'd never tried it. Blood was her food, so naturally sex had usually included sustenance for her. But now, she couldn't wait to experience Brittany combining food and sex. She couldn't wait to feel Brittany's smooth, warm tongue on her, licking and lapping up the syrup. She shivered in anticipation as Brittany uncapped the syrup, waiting for the cold chocolate drizzle to start sliding over her.

But then Brittany did something she didn't expect. Rather than approach Santana, she lay on her back and began drizzling the chocolate over her own body. Santana's heart started pulsing quickly, watching the stark contrast of the chocolate against Brittany's pale, pink skin. It slid down over the sides of her breasts and pooled in her navel. Santana could smell it, warm and dark and sweet, and her mouth watered. She hadn't eaten chocolate for fifty years. It seemed only fitting that she should eat her favorite food off her favorite person in the world.

Before she new it, she was on all fours hovering over Brittany, a demonic grin wiped across her face as she leaned down, taking the first, most satisfying lick of Brittany's skin coated in chocolate. She moaned, drawing her tongue back into her mouth to let the flavors morph, from sweet to rich to the hint of bitterness that made the chocolate authentic. Brittany giggled, wriggling on her back at the combination of the chill of the chocolate and Santana's gradually warming body and tongue spreading it over her. Santana licked with broad, eager strokes, trying not to move too fast and end the experience before it had begun. But Brittany was too sexy and the chocolate was too delicious, and before she knew it, the chocolate was mere smears and she was ravishing Brittany's mouth with her own, while her hands stroked between Brittany's legs, hoping to relay the blissfullness of the experience into her center. Brittany rocked up into her and came quickly, nails digging into Santana's back with a cry.

When Santana pulled back to look at her face, she saw hints of chocolate on Brittany's face, transferred from her own. She smiled and smiled and smiled as Brittany's breathing steadied, feeling herself prickle with a light sheen of sweat. It felt good, like she was becoming a hothouse flower, blooming above Brittany. Brittany was eager to return the favor, drizzling gobs of chocolate into Santana's mouth on occasion as she rocked into Santana with her hand, gasping in harmony with Santana and licking her neck, her collarbone, her nipples. Santana came quickly too, blissed out on chocolate and Brittany.

As Santana came down, fangs tucking back in, Brittany kissed all up and down her body again, trying to lap up every trace of of chocolate from her skin. Santana felt as though Brittany was trying to devour _her_, rather than the syrup. She closed her eyes, steadying her breathing, and focused on the soft, warm swipes of Brittany's tongue over her abdomen, the curl of her ribs, beneath her breasts, her shoulders, and back down her sternum to her thighs. Brittany was so intent, so lost in her licking, and Santana just lay there, putty and sweat and smudges of chocolate over her body, until she felt Brittany's breath on her neck. Her pulse picked up again, feeling the ghost of Brittany's breath against her. She wanted Brittany to lick her neck, but she didn't. She told herself to be patient, but her patience was no match for Brittany's playfulness. When Santana gave up waiting and wriggling closer to Brittany on top of her, she opened her eyes, questioning why Brittany had stopped. Brittany had chocolate smeared all over her face, and her eyes were almost closed with exhaustion. Brittany had the endurance of an athlete, but Santana knew she must still be tired.

"Tired?" Santana asked, realizing that Brittany's effort to please her probably took more energy than she could comprehend. She hadn't had human sex in fifty years, and thus forgotten what a workout it was.

Brittany just smiled down at Santana. "I was just thinking," she said. She didn't continue, as though Santana was supposed to understand what Brittany was thinking about without explanation.

"About?"

Brittany's grin grew playful. "How good it feels when you bite me."

Santana was surprised. The noise Brittany made when Santana bit into her neck or thigh was animal and wild and made Santana hungrier, but it had never occurred to her that it was a noise of pleasure. She had always assumed it was a noise of pain. After all, having holes awled into her flesh couldn't feel good. Could it? It hurt Santana when she bit into her own wrist to give Brittany her healing blood. So this was surprising information. "It does?" she asked.

"So good," Brittany echoed. "I mean, I feel your fangs going into my skin, and I get a kind of rush that usually goes with pain, but it doesn't hurt. I just feel the movement."

"Hm." Santana frowned up at Brittany who still hovered over her. She didn't know if she could believe Brittany. Painless piercing didn't exist.

"And then when you start to suck..." Brittany blushed and dipped her head into the crook of Santana's neck, exhaling at the thought of how Santana's lips felt as they drew out her blood. She rested there, gasping for a minute as she flushed warmer from head to foot. Then she drew her head back and Santana saw how pink she was. "It's pretty much the best feeling ever."

Santana was intrigued. "Oh really..." she said trying to taunt Brittany's flush into overtaking her. She loved when Brittany's blood rose to the surface of her skin like this, making her look like a sunrise and smell like heaven. "Better than this?" She slid her hand between them and ran her fingers through Brittany's center, drawing out another gasp as Brittany shifted to make room for her hand.

"Oh..." Brittany breathed. "Yeah... it's that good."

Santana slowed and stilled her hand, not wanting to get Brittany more worked up when she was so tired. She could feel that, although Brittany was aroused, she was too tired to go again right away. More than ever, Santana wanted to honor that fragility. It was more sacred to her every day.

Brittany settled against Santana's collarbone and exhaled, letting herself return to the sated, sweaty stupor she had been in previously. She sighed and Santana felt her cheek move in a hazy smile against her breast.

Santana closed her eyes and scanned through Brittany's body, relishing in their shared satisfaction and calm. It felt warm and good, like soaking in a hot tub or a warmed bed. But instead of water or sheets, they simply floated in their own haze on the floor of their - _their_ - living room..

She scanned through Brittany's legs, feeling how they were reduced to jelly, and her center, warm and humming. She felt her chest, filling and refilling with air, and her heart, full and alive and steady, though tired. Santana kept her eyes closed, content to feel Brittany within and against her forever.

She felt Brittany shift on top of her.

"Santana, do you feel okay?" Brittany asked. There was a hint of hesitant concern in her voice.

"I feel fantastic," Santana slurred. "You were amazing."

Brittany shifted even more, hands running over Santana's biceps. "Okay."

Santana reached up to draw Brittany back down to her, not wanting to move yet. But Brittany spoke first.

"Baby, don't freak out, okay?"

"Why?" Santana asked, letting her brow crinkle over her still-closed eyes.

"Well..." Brittany said, just as Santana felt the first swell of forced calm falling onto her from Brittany. "It's just that... the sun is up."


	19. Red Sunshower

Santana's eyes flew open and she jerked up, almost flinging Brittany off her.

"What?" she gasped.

She looked around her house and saw that Brittany was right. There was an eerie, foreign light seeping over the horizon into the living room where they were sprawled out.

Santana felt her throat clutch with panic and her limbs seize, but as Brittany sent a powerful wave of calm onto her, she stopped. Quickly scanning her limbs, she realized she wasn't burning. She wasn't even warm. She just felt... Well, she felt sweaty and tired and good, if not stunned.

"The sun's up?" Santana gasped in disbelief, as though her eyes might be deceiving her.

"Yeah," Brittany hushed. Santana looked around, studying the way the gold light tinged the edges of her furniture and brought out the colors of the upholstery.

It was beautiful, once she could see past her panic. Things tinged with gold looked new and bright. She was seeing her house differently than she ever had before, as though alight with the glow of the biggest lamp in the world. She looked down at her naked body again, seeing the warmth of her skin glow. She looked around, in awe, for what felt like hours.

After Santana got over her initial shock, observing the way the sun lit up her skin and her house, she looked up at Brittany.

Brittany had never been more beautiful.

The way the sun glinted off her hair, the way her freckles were slowly rising to the surface with the dawn, the way she smiled down at Santana with her chocolate-stained face. Santana was entranced. She cupped Brittany's chin, bringing it to her face, and kissed her. She wanted to kiss the sunlight into her, so she would always look this radiant, this effervescent, this whole and good and light. Santana wanted to preserve her, exactly as she was.

She rolled on top of her, enveloping her, though not with lust, but with joy. She was no longer confined to the night.

And yet it seemed Brittany was even more joyous than she was. After a few moments of kissing, rolling about on Santana's floor, she sat up, then got onto her knees, giving Santana her hand.

"C'mon!" she said, elated. "Let's go!"

"Go where!" Santana asked, Brittany's excitement contagious between them.

"Everywhere!" Brittany exclaimed, yanking Santana up with surprising strength. "You have a whole world to see in the sunlight!"

She pulled Santana up and out the door, and they stood there on the stoop, frozen with wonder as the sun rose, casting its golden spell over them. The world seemed to expand dramatically in that moment. Santana felt huge and small at the same time. Her skin was warming, her heart was beating, and she was breathing in the sweet scent of dawn. Best of all, she was sharing it all with Brittany.

She watched the golden sparkles in the dew, listened to the birdcalls, and felt the way Brittany was feeling. Brittany's chest was bursting with happiness and wonder and love. She saw out of the corner of her eye that Brittany was watching her, in between glances around the trees and foliage around Santana's house. Brittany wanted to feel whatever Santana felt, to feel the miraculous experience of stepping out into the light for the first time in five decades.

Santana kept looking down at her arms and legs and stomach, amazed she wasn't burning or steaming. She didn't feel any discomfort. If anything, she felt more alive than ever. Her skin grew warm, yet chilled with the feeling of the dewy dawn.

Santana wanted to experience every blade of grass, every birdcall, every wonder that she knew Brittany noticed on a daily basis. This was the world Brittany lived in. For the first time, she felt that she could experience it.

She turned back to Brittany, the quickening in her chest contagious between them. She didn't know who was more excited. She grabbed Brittany's hand and said, "Show me. Show me everything."

Brittany giggled in delight, flying down the stairs to Santana's car.

"Wait!" Santana called as Brittany tried to open the locked driver's seat.

Brittany looked up at her, confused. "Wait for what?"

Santana looked down at Brittany and laughed. "We need to put on clothes!"

At that Brittany burst out laughing. They had been so amazed at Santana's swift transformation, that hadn't even noticed that they'd run out of the house stark naked, with chocolate smeared all over their bodies. They looked like they'd been in some kind of mud wrestling match, with their hair all matted and their bodies sweaty and stained. Brittany laughed and laughed before darting back up the stairs, planting a searing kiss on Santana's lips, and pulling her around the back of her house to where the sunlight hadn't reached the edge of the forest.

"Where are you taking me! We need clothes!" Santana protested, still laughing.

"I know!" Brittany gushed. "But I want you to have your first sunshower."

"_Sun_ shower?" Santana asked. She was still had a gut reaction to the word Sun. For fifty years, avoiding it had been about preservation, after all.

"Yeah!" Brittany chirped. "Where you take a shower outside when it's sunny. Although, usually a sunshower is when it's sunny and raining. But we'll make do!"

She bent over and opened the door to Santana's automatic sprinkler system, overriding the automatic settings.

The sprinkler jets speared up and Santana heard a crescendo of clicking noises before she realized that Brittany meant they were going sprinkler running.

"Catch me!" Brittany shouted, darting to the other side of Santana's back yard.

"Said the human to the vampire!" Santana teased, tearing after Brittany with as much speed as she could muster. And yet, despite Santana's supernatural speed, Brittany dodged her and doubled back to the other side of the yard, just as they were doused with the first streams of water.

It went right into Santana's eyes and hair and she shrieked. "You get back here, Brittany Pierce!"

"Only if you catch me!' Brittany kept teasing.

Brittany hopped from foot to foot on the opposite side of the lawn. Santana gauged the spray path of the sprinklers and lunged at her. And yet, somehow Brittany escaped again, shrieking as she evaded Santana and hid behind one of the jets.

"Bet you can't catch me before you're all clean!" Brittany goaded. "Slooooow poooooke!"

"You're dead, Pierce!"

"I wish!"

Santana made a frustrated, joyful noise as she ran headfirst into the spray, only to come up empty handed. Brittany was darting about with elfin speed, taunting Santana behind each sprinkler.

But of course, eventually Santana caught her and held her facing a jet, so it soaked Brittany from head to toe. Then she whirled her around and Brittany pretended to protest the fierce kisses she laid on her as they were both soaked in the spray. After several moments of deep, wet kisses, Santana pulled back. "Got you," she panted.

"So you did," Brittany grinned.

They stood there panting, staring into each others eyes between blinks to keep the drips out of their eyes, until Brittany shivered so hard, it rocked through Santana. Santana gripped her shoulders, as though that might warm her, and smiled before pulling her up the steps through the back door of the house.

"Don't get mud on the carpet!" Brittany protested with a laugh.

"I seem to recall you not being so cautious when the mess was chocolate syrup a few hours ago," Santana smirked.

Brittany laughed and followed Santana into the seldom-used shower that was just off the upstairs bedroom, that to this day, Santana had left unfurnished. After all, her basement was her bedroom, and her coffin her bed. But now, as she studied the slats of light that fell through the industrial shades, she contemplated buying a bed they could lay in together, holding each other, no matter the time of day.

As if reading her thoughts, Brittany said, "We should save up for a bed." She gave Santana a sneaky smile.

"No need to save up," Santana shrugged. "I invested well in the nineties, remember?"

Brittany giggled and pulled Santana into the large jet shower off the bedroom. "It's nice to be living with a rich old lady."

Santana shrugged the comment off and pushed the level for the shower on, holding her hand under the spray to make sure it was warm enough for the delicateness of Brittany's skin.

After they showered, Brittany dressed quickly, bouncing as she told Santana all the places she wanted to take her. To her favorite park, to the zoo, to her high school, and, last but not least, to her sorority house.

Santana slowed her dressing as she realized how badly Brittany wanted to integrate their worlds. She was going into the light, and Brittany was always hinting at wanting to be turned and become a creature of the dark. Santana had managed to stave off the conversation so far, and hoped she'd be able to keep it up. So she was hesitant to run too quickly into Brittany's world, no matter how much she adored her.

Nevertheless, Brittany pulled Santana through town, pointing out animals she assumed Santana had never seen. Santana tried not to giggle. She knew the animals of the town better than most humans, since they were often the only creatures stirring in the early, dark hours of morning. But Brittany's excitement was so delightful, she didn't want to put an end to it.

They visited everywhere Brittany could think of. Statues, nail salons, nurseries. Santana was amazed at how different everything looked. The patterns of light and shadow were mesmerizing, as were the people, who behaved differently during the day. She felt almost like an intruder on the world of light. This was something she wasn't supposed to see.

Brittany was driving up a road, bubbling about how she couldn't wait for her sorority sisters to meet Santana when she reached her limit with adventures for the day.

Brittany's sisters knew she was dating a vampire; Brittany had made sure of it by frequently attending chapter meetings and social events with fresh bite marks. But Santana knew she wouldn't be able to explain what was happening. Why could she eat and breathe and go out in the light, yet still craved blood and the cool of the earth around her? Nothing made sense anymore.

Thinking of how to explain her hybridism made her contemplate it more than she wanted to. What was causing her to change? She thought back to Shelby, whose transformation had occurred over the course of years as she grew close to the human family she'd created for herself. Shelby thought her closeness to humans had caused her transformation. But as soon as it was complete, they were dead. It was as if she had sucked their life force out of them.

"Brittany, stop," Santana said, suddenly scared.

Brittany seemed alarmed, taking her foot off the accelerator, but not braking.

"I can't do this," Santana said, gritting her teeth.

"Is it starting to hurt?" Brittany asked, looking up at the sun.

Santana wished it would hurt so she could have some reassurance she wasn't depriving Brittany of her life force. She wanted something to be easy to understand, simple, black and white. Night and day.

"No. But I'm getting tired. I need to sleep."

Brittany gave her a concerned nod, glancing back and forth between the road and Santana. "Is that all?"

"Yeah."

Brittany's nod turned sad and she pulled over, making a u-turn before Santana's guilt forced her to tell the truth.

"No," Santana admitted. "I'm not ready for this. Your sisters, I mean. Maybe at night. But... not during the day. It's too confusing for everyone."

"Oh... okay," Brittany said. Her voice was timid.

"I'm sorry."

Brittany gave a heavy shrug and drove back to their house quietly. Santana felt her struggling to think of happy things, as to not let Santana feel how her chest was deflating at Santana's curtailing of their sunny adventure. Santana searched for a compromise.

"How about I go with you to that thing on Saturday?"

"The spring mixer?" Brittany said, hesitantly perking up.

"Yeah," Santana said, trying to sound confident in her offer. "I'll go as your date."

Brittany giggled. "People don't bring dates to parties anymore. Not since the sixties."

"Oh."

"But... that's really sweet of you to offer." She paused, gripping the steering wheel before turning back to Santana with a smile. "I'd love you to come as my date."

Santana was relieved. She felt Brittany floating up again, and was glad she'd lightened the mood. "What do I wear?" she asked, thinking through her closet of business clothes and the pretty party dresses her mother had made her as a teenager.

"A toga."

That threw Santana. They were going to a toga party? She'd only seen those on TV. "A toga... Okay."

"Only if you want," Brittany rushed to assure her. "Not everyone wears them."

"I'm guessing not everyone wears fangs either, but I'll have mine."

Brittany slid her hand over Santana's knee. "Hey now. You might not be the only vampire there."

Santana took a breath, steeling herself to the reality that she probably would be. "Yeah," she said.

Brittany gave her a warm smile. "I'm glad you'll be there."

Santana nodded nervously and focused back in the road, which was quickly leading them back to the safety and security of her coffin.

Santana slept hard and deep. When she woke, it was dark, and looking at her watch, she was surprised to see it was well past nightfall. It was already past midnight. Brittany was breathing deeply, curled beside her facing the wall. But when Santana a shifted, she rolled over and snuggled into Santana's chest. Santana thought she was still asleep, but then Brittany mumbled, "We shud prob'ly go banish thuh vampire."

Santana nodded and pulled Brittany closer to her, wanting to savor her warmth for a moment before they ventured into the danger of the Pierce house. Brittany planted a few kisses on her collarbone before rising up, extending her hand down to Santana.

They arrived at the Pierce house in silence, save for the hammering of Santana's heart, which was swiftly accelerating Brittany's. From the top of the stairs, Santana listened and smelled for the vampire. Frowning, she opened the door and peered down. She took a few hesitant steps.

"Can you smell her?" Brittany asked.

Santana furrowed her brow, confused. How had the place been wiped so completely of the other vampire's smell in such a short time? It didn't make sense. She ventured all the way down the stairs, looking around the still surroundings toward the door of the root cellar. She had to admit, she missed it a little bit. The first nights they'd slept in each other's arms had been in this root cellar. It was a shame they could never come back to it like that.

"I think..." she said tentatively. "I think she's gone."

The air in the root cellar sat dark and damp for two seconds before there was an explosion. The front wall of the root cellar burst off, clouding the entire basement in dust as Brittany was hurled against the wall before she could scream. Santana only caught a gleam of a vampire's fangs near Brittany's throat before she turned, picked up a stake from a bucket of gardening supplies, and jabbed it into the vampire's back, causing an ear-shattering scream followed by a tidal wave of blood against the wall where Brittany was pinned.

It washed over Brittany, soaking her hair and splashing into her mouth and eyes. Brittany coughed and blinked and held up her hands to prevent any more blood from gushing onto her, but she was already soaked through. The basement was filled with ear-shattering shrieking, and as Santana got her bearings, she realized that her throat was rattling and the noise was coming from her own mouth, not Brittany's. Brittany was frozen in horror, still backed against the wall as blood dripped from her clothing and hair.

Santana stood motionless for a few seconds before she realized what she had done. She dropped the stake, letting it fall to the ground, splattering in the pool of vampire remains.


	20. Poison

Brittany looked down at herself in shock, watching the vampire remains drip off her body. It was a hideous, smelly, awful sight, and Santana felt herself getting nauseous. The last thing she wanted to do was get sick and start vomiting blood, adding to the mess already covering the basement. But she couldn't control her body the way she wanted to. She felt the hot swell of blood rising up from her stomach, pushing through her throat into her mouth. She leaned over and wretched three times, her sickness splattering into the vampire remains, combining to make a darker pool of blood.

"Santana!" Brittany gasped. "Oh my god..."

Santana wretched a few more times, holding up her hand to keep Brittany back. Brittany raised her own hand to her mouth, and for a moment Santana thought she was going to be sick too.

"Oh my god," Brittany repeated. "Sweetie, are you okay?"

Santana was bewildered. Brittany had come within an inch of her life and was currently dripping with vampire remains, and she was worried that Santana was throwing up.

But Santana couldn't stop gagging long enough to say that to Brittany. She turned away so Brittany wouldn't have to watch her be sick. After a moment she felt Brittany's hand on her back, slightly sticky, but warm and concerned. She felt Brittany's worry envelope her, trying to soothe her. Selfishly, she was grateful for it, because it calmed her enough that she was able to stop wretching, wipe her mouth, and stand up. She didn't want to look Brittany in the eye, so she muttered, "I'm fine."

She knew Brittany didn't believe her, but she needed to say it anyway.

"Let's get out of here," Brittany said.

She ushered Santana towards the stairs, not thinking that they would track blood and guts with them. Santana stopped her and pointed to the window of the basement, too faint and powerless to verbalize her idea. Brittany nodded and stood on a crate to open the window, scurrying out onto the lawn and reaching down to offer her hand to Santana. Any other time, Santana would have laughed and refused her hand, since she was a hundred times stronger than Brittany, but now she took it without thought, letting Brittany help her out of the blood-soaked basement into the cool night air.

More than anything, Santana wanted to hold Brittany as close to her as possible, grateful for her safety. But Brittany was soaked in vampire remains, which she wanted nothing to do with. Brittany seemed to understand that, as she immediately stripped down to her underwear, walking a few yards over to where she picked up a garden hose, twisted on the knob, and began rinsing herself off. It would take a thorough scrubbing or twenty to get all the globs of bloody goo out of her hair and skin, but a preliminary rinsing was in order. Santana stood stock-still, unable to move as she watched Brittany shift from foot to foot as she rinsed her legs.

When Brittany was done, she turned off the water and shook herself like a dog to fling off some of the water. She pulled her blood-stained hair back into a stiff ponytail and checked herself again for places she missed.

"I think we should go home now," she said, as though it was almost funny.

Santana's eyes widened. Obviously she wasn't going to let Brittany stay at her parents' house, but what were they going to do about the mess in the basement? And what about the fact that Santana had just committed murder for the sake of protecting a human?

"You want me to drive?" Brittany asked, casually.

"Britt," Santana said, looking Brittany up and down. "You're in your underwear, covered in blood."

Brittany shrugged. "Eh. No one will see."

Santana gaped at her. How was she acting so cool about this? "Britt, I just killed someone!" she gasped. She would murder a hundred times over to protect Brittany, but she never wanted Brittany to see her do something so violent and heartless.

Brittany bit her lip, realizing that what Santana said was true. "We better hide, then."

Santana's thoughts were swirling so rapidly, she couldn't cling to one to decide the best course of action. The only thing she knew was that she wanted to keep Brittany as safe as possible. The only place she could do that was at her house.

She picked Brittany up, trying not to pay attention to the way the blood-tinged water from Brittany's skin soaked into as she carried Brittany in her arms, racing back to her house. Once she got inside, she set Brittany down and bolted the door, running around to lock every window and draw every shade. She set the alarm system, then turned back to Brittany.

Brittany was standing by the door, looking down at her feet, making sure she didn't get blood or water, which had dried to a sticky mess in the wind as she was carried, anywhere but on the mat directly inside the door. She looked so small and fragile, Santana's heart started to squeeze, as though Brittany were doomed by her humanity. She picked her up again, trying to hide any of the desperate fear she felt, and walked as gracefully as she could into the master bedroom, then placed Brittany down on the marble of the master bathroom.

"I'm going to help you-" she hiccuped, "rinse off."

Brittany stood still, watching Santana.

"And then what?" Brittany asked. She sounded afraid, as though she'd realized that she was the target of something bigger and more threatening than a single vampire's attention.

Santana became more agitated, but busied herself turning on the shower, jerking the knob several ways to get it on and at the right temperature. When it sputtered on, but remained frigid, Santana broke into tears. "I don't know!" she sobbed. "I don't know what to do!"

Brittany rushed forward, prying Santana's hands off the knob of the shower and turning her to face her. She cupped Santana's hands together in her own and stared into her with fierce protectiveness.

"Santana, stop," Brittany said. She waited until Santana stopped trembling hard and then whispered, "I'm a big girl. It's not your job to protect me."

Santana keeled forward with sobs. "Yes it is... yes it _is_," she blubbered. "I dragged you into this world! It's my fault you're here!"

Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana and squeezed her for several long minutes as the water ran cold in the shower. "No, it's not," Brittany hushed again. "I went looking for a vampire to bite me. I knew this could happen."

Santana whimpered, remembering their first meeting and loathing the way she'd treated Brittany, but also Brittany's recklessness. Now both of them were in the crosshairs of a death threat, and Santana had no clue how to shepherd either of them to safety.

Brittany squeezed Santana again and said, "It's gonna be okay. We'll figure out what to do. For now, we're safe here."

Santana took a deep breath, feeling it spread through her chest and limbs, and wished with her whole being that Brittany was right. After another moment, she let go of the panic that had seized her and dropped into hopeless stillness. Something bad was going to happen, and there was nothing she could do about it. She let Brittany pull her into the shower and together they scrubbed off every bit of blood and goo.

Santana felt drained afterwards. Her whole body was heavy, as though she had swallowed silk-covered silver and it pulled her toward the earth the way Brittany's binds did her limbs. She had none of her vampire speed or ferociousness. Brittany sensed it, and after she toweled off Santana's hair, she pulled her down to the basement and into her coffin, stroking her hair until she fell asleep.

Once Brittany was asleep and her mental stillness afforded Santana the ability to think without the influence of Brittany's feelings, Santana's mind started to race again. Images flashed through her mind, reels of footage from the moment she had jabbed the stake into the vampire's back to Brittany's first bite. Between images of Brittany smiling and writhing in pleasure beneath her, she saw flashes of herself, fangs bared, overpowering Brittany, dragging her into the vampire world. Santana suddenly saw their relationship differently. Brittany had been brought in against her will, coerced without knowing anything of the evil inside Santana, not knowing how much danger awaited her. As Santana watched more images play through her mind at a quickening speed, her heart started to race. Eventually all she could see was her hand jabbing the stake into the vampire's back, as though she were watching herself commit a thousand murders in ten minutes' time.

She knew she needed to take action, and soon.

Santana slipped out of their coffin and tiptoed up the stairs into the living room. After spending all day yesterday in the light, night felt different. It felt more dead and foreboding. But Santana was in so much anguish, she welcomed it. She felt guilty as she slipped out into the night, taking care to lock the door behind her. But as long as Brittany was in the house, she would be safe from anyone seeking vengeance for the murder Santana had committed.

Once she was far enough away that she as certain Brittany wouldn't hear her footsteps, Santana tore into a run. Her heartbeat dulled the further she got from Brittany, putting distance in their bond. The father away she got, the more she let her self-loathing consume her. She was the most horrible thing that had even happened to a human. As her lungs started to burn, she wished the rest of her would burn. She wanted to be consumed by something that would relieve her agony. She wished she had the option of running into the sunlight and going down in flames.

She ran and ran and ran until she was further into the forest than she'd ever been. Every branch and bush she passed seemed to taunt her, to remind her of her nature, a nature she should never have exposed to Brittany. Her very existence threatened the good within Brittany, and she hated herself for tarnishing it. Her thoughts raced faster and faster as her limbs started to weaken, until at last she collapsed, sobbing on the floor of the forest, wishing it would swallow her up completely and she would vanish from existence. Then Brittany would be free and might stand a chance to become the wholesome, pure person she had once been.

The only thought that Santana had as she lay crumpled in the dirt, trembling, was that she was poison. The blood that coursed through her was toxic, and she had forced Brittany to drink it. If she had thought it would end her, she would have tried to drain her own veins and let the forest swallow her body up, erasing her evil from the planet, just as it should have done fifty years ago when Quinn found her. If she could ever erase herself from Brittany's life, maybe Brittany would be okay.

And she realized that was what she needed to do. She needed to set Brittany free, to return her to the life she was supposed to have. It was the right thing to do. Even if she was a miserable creature without morals or respect for others' lives, she owed Brittany that.

As her tears poured into the earth at that realization, Santana thought she was the most selfish person in the world for wanting to be near Brittany just one day longer.

Santana didn't know how long she lay there on the ground. She felt dirt pressing into her forehead and cheek, becoming mud with her tears. Her legs went numb where they were crumpled beneath her, and despite being dead, she started to shiver. She would have been content to lay there in her misery forever, had she not heard Brittany calling for her.

_Santana... Santana..._

Santana started weeping harder. Her instincts told her to fly to Brittany's side, to soothe her and protect her and promise to never leave her. But her mind, currently steeped in self-hatred and convinced she was poisoning Brittany, willed her to stay on the forest floor.

It seemed her body always won, though. She ripped herself from the ground, not bothering to brush off the twigs and mud, and ran back home. All her muscles ached, and her heart was heavy.

The whole way back, she followed Brittany's voice.

_Santana... Where are you? Are you okay? Santana, please answer me. I need you._

Santana's footsteps quickened with the urgency of Brittany's voice until she found herself on her doorstep once more. She raced down into the basement where she could feel Brittany's heart pulsing, and was surprised to find Brittany was still asleep. How was it that Santana had been able to hear her voice in the heart of the forest?

Santana looked down at the face of the innocent girl she loved. She started weeping again, regretting the way she was poisoning such a precious creature. Before she could stop herself, she put her hand on Brittany's back. If she could just feel Brittany's warmth, feel that she was okay, then she might have some hope that Brittany could return to a normal existence once she was gone.

As soon as Santana's hand touched her back, Brittany stirred. She opened her eyes, looking up to see Santana above her. She frowned.

"Baby... Why are you covered in dirt?"

Santana realized that she hadn't bothered to clean herself off after lying on the ground in the forest.

"I went for a walk," Santana mumbled.

Brittany sat up. "Are you sure you weren't digging a hole for a bomb shelter or maybe snuggling with gophers?" Brittany put her hand on Santana's and then her eyes grew concerned. "Baby, you're shaking."

Santana trembled harder, willing her tears to stay tucked in, but failing. This was going to be the hardest thing she'd ever done.

Brittany pouted up at Santana. "Santana, stop beating yourself up. I would have staked that guy too, if I'd been as quick as you."

Santana said nothing, just kept staring at Brittany. She swallowed. She had to do what she knew was right.

"Brittany," she said, her voice hoarse. "We can't keep living like this."

"It'll get better, I promise. It's normal to be shaken up after seeing someone die."

"No, I mean you and me. We can't keep doing this. We need to..." She hiccupped. "Break up."

Brittany stared up at Santana, stunned. "What?"

"I can't keep poisoning you," she choked. "Ever since you met me, things have been horrible for you."

"That's not true," Brittany protested. "My life has never been better."

Santana shook her head, taking a step back so her hand slid out from under Brittany's. "You're sleeping in a coffin with a dead girl. Do you realize how fucked up that is?"

"I don't think there's anything wrong with it," Brittany said, her voice toughening.

"It's _wrong_," Santana insisted. "You need to be around living people."

"You have independent thoughts and feelings. You even have a pulse. You are just as alive as anyone else."

"But I can turn off my heart whenever I want. That's messed up."

Brittany's shoulders curled toward her chest for a minute as she studied the sheets tangled around her legs. She held her hands together in front of her before she looked up at Santana with dark, almost angry eyes. "So don't turn it off."

"What?"

"Don't turn your heart off," Brittany challenged. "That's what you're doing right now, isn't it? Pretending you don't have feelings so I'll go?"

"No, I'm doing this for your own good."

Brittany stood up, stepped out of the coffin, and stalked toward Santana with surprising speed and anger, backing Santana toward the wall of the basement. "You don't get to decide what's good for me. I'm a grown woman and I am just as capable of making decisions as you are."

"But you had no idea what you were getting into."

"Like hell, I didn't," Brittany scowled. "The fact that I'm human doesn't mean my wishes don't count."

Santana was quiet for a minute.

"I thought you had more respect for me than this," Brittany muttered, heading for the stairs.

"Britt, I do respect you," Santana said, her guilt weakening her voice.

Brittany glared over her shoulder at Santana. "Then don't try to break up with me for my own good, because that's bullshit. If you want out, just-" Her strength buckled as she reached the landing. "Just tell me. Because saying you're trying to protect me is not only bullshit, it's insulting." She took a few steps and closed the door behind her with a bang.

Santana felt even worse now. She realized that in her mind, she did consider Brittany to be more fragile than she was. Watching Brittany stalk up the stairs and plod into the kitchen to start making a sandwich, burning with anger, reminded her that Brittany was strong. She had always been strong.

Perhaps Santana had been projecting her own weakness onto Brittany this whole time. Perhaps _she_ was the delicate one.

Fueled by guilt, Santana followed Brittany, head bent in shame. As Brittany slammed the refrigerator door shut, Santana took a breath the begin speaking. "You're right," she mumbled. "You're an adult and you'll make the best decisions for you."

Brittany was quiet for a moment as she forcefully prepared a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich. Santana waited anxiously, hoping Brittany would forgive her. After Brittany swallowed her first bite, she said, more softly, "Do you still want to break up with me?"

Santana shook her head vehemently. "I want to keep you safe. I just don't know how to do that."

Brittany gave her a slow nod as she took another bite. Once she swallowed it, she said, "I'm safe here."

Santana took a seat at the table, hands in her lap. "I hope so," she said in a small voice. When Brittany didn't respond, Santana caved completely. "_Please_ stay. I want you to. I'm just so afraid of what's going to happen. When I get scared, I say stupid things."

At that, Brittany softened. She reached for Santana's hand and squeezed it. Santana felt relief flood her ribcage, and was grateful for it.

Brittany gave Santana a sad smile. After a moment she said, "Well, I know one thing that's going to happen. You're going to come to the Spring Mixer with me like you promised."

And that simple sentence seemed to set everything back into tentative, peaceful order.

The next few days passed in vigilant quiet. Santana stiffened at every strange noise, every car she heard on the road outside. Brittany took to writing down a list of happy things to think about so she could easily calm Santana, and Santana felt guilty for burdening her with that. But she had to admit, it did help. She gradually built up her strength, until her dread was no longer paralyzing, but offered a rare motivation to figure out what she was going to do next. They even had sex a few times, though it wasn't as electric as before.

Santana ventured onto her computer and was surprised to discover that the mess in the Pierce basement hadn't made the news. Brittany shrugged and reminded Santana that the Church was powerful and only let certain information make it to the press. She had texted her parents about something mundane to make sure they were okay, not mentioning the damage to the house. Her dad texted her back a snide remark about something meeting its timely end near the washing machine. Santana felt sick at that, and Brittany stopped texting him.

After three days, Brittany approached Santana cautiously. "I want to talk about that thing you keep avoiding."

"The sun? I don't have to avoid that anymore," Santana said.

Brittany sighed at Santana's stubbornness, but forged ahead. "If I become a vampire, I can defend myself and my family against whatever is plotting against us. You wouldn't have to worry about draining or hurting me. Pretty much all our problems would go away."

Santana pursed her lips in a hard line. "Except the part about your parents hating you after you're turned."

Brittany's head dropped in an admission that Santana was right.

Santana took a deep breath, trying to close the conversation. "It's not happening, Britt. You're staying human. You're going to have a normal life, become a veterinarian, and grow old like you should. Like I should have."

Brittany frowned in objection. "Who are you to decide what a normal life is?"

Santana didn't have a response to that.

"There's no such thing," Brittany continued. "Just because you were miserable for fifty years doesn't mean I would be. I'd be happy, because I'd be just as strong and fast as you, and we'd get to be together forever."

Santana stayed quiet, trying to stonewall Brittany into dropping the subject.

"Did you hear me?" Brittany asked.

"Yep."

"We'd get to be together _forever_."

As beautiful as it sounded, Santana wasn't ready to negotiate Brittany's mortality. Thankfully she didn't have to, as her phone chimed in the other room. She got up and retrieved it, seeing a text message from Quinn.

_I need to see you immediately._

Santana felt her body run cold and Brittany appeared in the doorway.

"What's wrong?" Brittany asked.

"Quinn wants to see me." Santana was already running through the mental list of happy things she had, trying to stay calm until she was out of close proximity to Brittany. She didn't want Brittany to worry.

"Okay, let's go over there," Brittany said, reaching for her keys.

"You're not coming with me," Santana gasped.

Brittany pouted, but set her keys down again. "Okay."

"I'll be back in a bit," Santana said, picking up her own. "Then we'll go to the mixer like we planned."

Brittany forced a smile of hope, kissing Santana on the cheek at the door.

* * *

As soon as Santana entered Quinn's house, she knew she was in trouble. Quinn was in her usual spot on the chaise, surrounded by book and teacups that once contained blood. She didn't look up.

"Sue wants to see you," Quinn said, with cool, mirthful words.

A chill ran through Santana's already-cold body. "What?" It wasn't so much a question as a soft gasp.

"You really stepped in it this time, Santana."

Santana swallowed. Getting called to see the Queen was never a good sign for a common vampire. A sheriff or elder might not sweat it, but Sue had no business with Santana unless it was bad business.

"You'll go see her tonight," Quinn said, her words light, as if they weren't supposed to be threatening.

"Can I have another day?" Santana asked, thinking about how she'd promised Brittany to go to the spring mixer with her.

Quinn just gave a closed-lipped, unamused giggle. "As your Maker, I command you-"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Santana said through her teeth. "Jeez, you don't have to use it every time you want me to do something."

"If only that were true," Quinn sighed. "But if I didn't use my Maker status over you, you'd never do anything."

"That's not true!"

Quinn said nothing, only looked up from her book as she turned the page.

"You'll go to see Sue tonight and carry out whatever demands she makes by morning."

Santana swallowed, frightened. Of course Sue would make demands of her, and she could only imagine they would be unsavory.

"Can I at least go see Brittany first?"

"No," Quinn said, as though Santana had asked if she wanted to watch TV. "Just go straight there."

"Can I text her?"

"You have a phone and you have fingers," Quinn said, gesturing through the air. "Do as you wish."

Santana swallowed and nodded. "Okay."

Quinn turned the page of her magazine. "If I were you, I'd be verrrrry careful what I said around the Queen."

"I will be," Santana said. "Don't worry."


	21. Penance

A/N: Hello again! I'm so excited for this chapter, it's one of my favorites. Do enjoy, and after you do, check out my new multi-chapter story, **_Wherever the Dandelion Falls_**, which I just posted.

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**Chapter 21: Penance**

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Santana had never met the Queen. She knew Sue had a reputation for being brutal and demanding, and Santana didn't want to think about what she'd be required to do. She wanted to avoid it as long as possible. But she knew she couldn't. Quinn had given a comman, and there was no avoiding it or putting it off.

She tried to stop her fingers from shaking as she typed out a text to Brittany. _So, so sorry, sweetie, I can't make it tonight. I know you wanted me to be there, and I wanted to be there too. I promise I'll make it up to you. Something came up that I couldn't get out of. You can be mad at me all week and I'll understand. Be safe tonight. Love you forever._

She tucked her phone into the breast pocket of her leather jacket and took a deep breath, looking ahead at the palace before her. She had seen pictures of the palace, but never been here. She didn't have a reason to, and she knew commoners never got to come here unless they were in trouble. She just hoped she'd make it out alive.

Her heels made sturdy, satisfying clicks on the concrete of the walkway. The lights from the pools on either side were glaring and made her feel dizzy, but she focused her attention on the door in front of her. One step at a time, one word at a time, one thought at a time. The guards on either side of the door gave her a nod, and she was about to enter when she felt her phone vibrate against her breast. It quickened her heart and calmed her at the same time. Brittany had responded.

She took her phone out.

_I'm not mad, just sad you'll miss the party. I'll be safe, promise you will too? Love you forever._

Santana swallowed and closed her eyes for a minute. _I'll be as safe as I can._

Santana tucked her phone away and raised her head again. If she presented herself with authority, maybe she wouldn't be punished as harshly.

Santana had a pretty darn good idea of why she was here. She'd staked a vampire, which was equivalent to murder in the human world. Even if that vampire had been about to hurt Brittany, she probably shouldn't have staked him. If only she'd listened better to Quinn when Quinn was trying to train her to control her temper.

Santana rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe she was actually regretting not listening to Quinn.

After taking a moment to still her heart and lungs, Santana entered a stately room with Greek pillars lining the walls that were lit with deep emerald lights. Animal skins hung on the walls, and Santana thought it was odd that the Queen had done something so... human. Animals were too easy to hunt for vampires, so a skin was nothing to brag about. But as Santana looked closer, she saw they were skins of rare animals. White lions, panthers, cougars, cheetahs. The Queen had surrounded herself with the hides of the noblest, most intelligent, and rare animals, and somehow that made Santana's stomach turn more. The Queen collected rare breeds. Santana couldn't help but feel, with her pulse and working lungs, that she was a rare breed herself.

"I expected you to dawdle a little bit on your way. Nice to see I can still be wrong once in awhile," the Queen said with a smirk.

She was seated crooked in her enormous, red leather throne, holding an equally enormous goblet that could only be filled with the rarest blood on earth.

"Of course, your highness," Santana said, trying not to sound scared. "I wouldn't waste time when you've called me."

Sue gave Santana a patronizing smile and tilted her head.

"Well, it's good to know there are some vampires who are still afraid of me," she said. "I thought after I let that bengali tiger loose during Coachella I had nothing left to live for."

Santana gave a faint nod, not knowing how she was supposed to respond to that. "My Maker said you wanted to see me and that I was to carry out your wishes before dawn."

"How is dear old Quinn?" Sue said, adjusting her back in her chair. "I haven't heard from her since she wrote to ask my permission to relocate her practice to another district."

Santana frowned. She had no idea what Sue was talking about. "Relocate?"

Sue sighed. "She's none too fond of being in Hudson's jurisdiction, but I simply can't let a talented physician relocate at her leisure. Ohio is lacking in resources enough as it is, and I'm not about to let her move just because it pleases her. Hudson was an unfortunate excuse for a sheriff, but he's a sheriff nonetheless. Just sorry Quinny got so mad about it..."

Santana was confused. Quinn wanted to get away from Finn? But why?

"I'm sure you did the right thing, your highness," was all Santana could think of to say.

Sue gave Santana another patronizing smile. "You're cute." She lifted her goblet to her lips and took several long chugs, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the blood rushing down her throat. She closed her eyes in reverie, letting out a satisfied _ahhhh_ when she had drained the goblet. Her face was dripping with blood, and she ran the back of her hand over her lips, smearing the blood as she did. Then her eyes opened and flashed at Santana.

"I assume you know why I called you here today," she said, her voice donning and air of casual familiarity.

"Not... not really," Santana said, hoping she was wrong about why she'd been called.

Sue set the goblet on the floor and sat up straight, bracing her arms on the sides of the throne.

"I hear you made a bit of a mess in some lunatic's basement."

"It was a root cellar," Santana said, wishing immediately she could take the words back.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_, she thought to herself. She'd just confessed to something that there was no proof of her doing.

"Who the hell has a root cellar these days?" Sue said, brow crinkling.

"I don't know," Santana said, hoping to ease herself away from being proven guilty. "Only crazy people."

"Welllll, regardless," Sue said, lopsided smirk causing fear to wash over Santana like a wave, "It seems you finally did something about that useless excuse for a sheriff I had working up in your county. Let me tell you, I can't thank you enough for getting _rid_ of him. Worthless bag of horseshit... That is the _last_ time I do my cousin Bernie a favor."

Santana forced out a nervous smile. "Um... You're welcome?" she stammered.

"Nice to know some of you young ones still have a brain to go along with your lifeless, blessed little hearts."

Santana tried not to puff up with pride as she double-checked to make sure her heart was still motionless. A compliment from the Queen was probably the highest praise she would ever receive in the indefinite time she would be on earth.

"The problem is," Sue said, wiping some blood off her chin, "not everyone is as pleased as I am. So I have to do something about that. Just to keep the peace, you know."

Santana's body rushed icy. Sue was going to ask her to be a Maker, she just knew it. She had heard of vampire stakers being required to convert humans, and she didn't want that to be her punishment. She would rather die than have to turn someone.

Santana deflated and nodded. "What did you have in mind?" The words were dry and paralyzed with fear.

Sue gave her a lopsided, almost maternal smile that made Santana run colder. "I hear you've never been a Maker."

Santana felt her stomach churn and she swallowed. She knew how awful being a vampire was, and she wouldn't wish that kind of painful death on any human. Getting closer to Brittany had done nothing to weaken her resolve. She didn't want Brittany or any other human to suffer like she had suffered.

But she couldn't say that to the Queen. "It's true, I haven't made my first progeny yet."

"What a shame. A smart girl like you would be an excellent Maker," Sue said, tilting her head and grinning at Santana some more. "I trust you'll take great pleasure in your first convert," she said, as though she were daring Santana to disagree with her.

Santana swallowed. "I'm sure I will," she lied. "But I'm not ready yet. Quinn says I'm still cutting my fangs."

Sue tilted her head back and looked down her nose at Santana, frown creasing her brow. "Now, I know that's not true. Quinn told me herself that you are her pride and joy, and she can't wait to be a GrandMaker."

Santana was confused. Had Quinn really said that? About _her_? Surely Sue must be mistaken. Santana and Quinn barely got along most days, and lately they had done nothing but fight.

"Is that so?" Santana murmured.

Sue nodded. "She also told me you have quite the tasty little human with you these days. Brittany, was it?" Sue asked.

Santana tried not to shudder and forced herself to nod. She had never felt this cold in her life.

"That's sweet," Sue said with a threatening, saccharine smile. "For food or as a companion?"

Santana wanted nothing more than to run out of the Queen's palace. She didn't want the Queen to know anything about Brittany. Sue was ruthless and threatening and wouldn't think twice about hurting Brittany. Hearing the Queen utter Brittany's name caused a surge in her connection to Brittany. She closed her eyes and felt for her, trying to see if Brittany was in distress. She felt warmth and the slight aftertaste of beer in her mouth.

Santana couldn't refuse the queen an answer. She swallowed. "As a companion."

"Do you love her?" Sue asked.

Santana wanted to lie. Maybe if she lied, the Queen wouldn't threaten Brittany.

"I- um..."

Sue dropped her pristine, queenly air, arms flopping on the sides of her throne. "For hell's sake, I don't have time for this shit."

Santana blurted out, "Yes! I love her!" as Sue barked for her guards to come in.

Faster than Santana could blink, the guards were upon her, holding her by the elbows, lifting her off her feet as they snarled. Santana recoiled, fearing painful extermination was upon her.

"Ah, ah, ah," Sue admonished, warning them not to be too rough with Santana. "She's okay. Ken, hold her here. Terry, I need you to go find her human, a girl about twenty years old with blonde hair named Brittany."

"No!" Santana shrieked, struggling to get away from Ken. "Don't hurt her! Please, I'll do whatever you need me to do, just don't hurt her!"

Sue held up her hands with an incredulous look on her face. "Did I say anything about hurting her?"

Santana stopped struggling against Ken's grip for a moment.

Sue gave Santana a look that made Santana feel three feet tall. "No one's going to hurt her. Well, beyond what you have to do, of course." Her smile turned sinister as her eyes pierced through Santana, explaining exactly what she expected of Santana.

Sue expected Santana to turn Brittany. Tonight.

Santana crumpled to the ground, dangling from Ken's stronghold as she started begging, choking on her words and trying not to scream. "Please, no! Please don't make me! I'll turn anyone, anyone in the world, but not Brittany! She's just a sweet girl who wants to be a veterinarian, you can't take her life away from her like that!"

Sue stood suddenly, storming over to where Santana was cowering on the marble of the throne room floor, robes swirling around her ankles. "Are you implying that eternal life isn't the greatest gift you could bestow upon a human?" She squinted down at Santana, daring her to condemn their species.

And of course, Santana couldn't.

Santana shuddered and shook her head. "No... No, of course not, your highness. She's just... I don't want her to be in pain..." She ran her hand under her nose, surprised and relieved to see that she was crying blood instead of water.

As she blubbered, trying to justify her reaction, she had the sinking realization there was no reason the Queen would accept for not turning Brittany into a vampire. Sue wanted Brittany to be a vampire, and there would be no changing her mind.

Unless.

Santana took deep, heaving breaths to steady herself, tucking her legs under to appear more composed. And although seeing Brittany die and be reborn as a vampire wasn't something she ever wanted to witness, more than anything, she didn't want to hold the power and responsibility of being Brittany's Maker. Any other human would have been okay, if she was going to be forced to take a life.

"Please your highness... If you want me to convert someone, I will do it gladly. It's my penance and I know we need to keep or ranks strong. But I don't want it to be Brittany. She has a messed up family and I don't want it to cause any problems," Santana pleaded, grasping at straws.

"I'm aware of her family situation," Sue said with a sinister smile. "All the more reason to turn her."

Santana was disheartened and desperate now. "Why do you want humans to hate us?" she begged.

Sue clucked her tongue. "Aw, sweetie. I don't want humans to hate us. I just want them to fear us. There's a big difference."

Santana swallowed, knowing she was slipping further and further away from hope that Brittany would be allowed to remain mortal.

"It's already been decided. You will make Brittany a vampire tonight."

Santana fell into hysterical tears again. "I don't want to be her Maker!"

"What is so wrong with being a Maker?" Sue barked. "I have thousands or subjects who do my bidding, and let me tell ya, it makes my life a heck of a lot easier," she said, gesturing around her at the lavish surroundings.

"I know it's rewarding," Santana said, echoing what she knew she was supposed to say. "But I don't want to turn Brittany!"

"I thought you said you loved her," Sue challenged, sounding as though she were mocking the depth of Santana's feelings.

"I do love her," Santana said, wiping the blood tears from her face. "I love her more than I thought vampires were capable of loving."

"So why don't you want her to be vampire too? You can spend eternity together and no one will give a damn because you're both vampires. Honestly, I don't understand the waterworks," Sue said, rolling her eyes.

Behind her, Santana heard the doors to the throne room open and shut and the Queen's eyes shot to the people who had just entered.

"Wellllll," Sue said, drawing the word out like a slurp of blood. "Here's the little morsel now."

Santana turned and was horrified to see Brittany in Terry's arms, carried like an oversized doll. She was wearing her toga and still had a red plastic cup in her hand, having been plucked from the merriment of her sorority event.

Terry let go without care and Brittany fell to the ground, catching herself at the last minute like a cat. She tried to steady herself, appearing drunk for a second before she straightened her toga and held her shoulders back, looking as though she fit right in with the Grecian architecture around her.

"You get faster every time, Terry," Sue said with a smirk. "Even I'm impressed."

"Thank you, your highness," Terry said, her words airy and thin like the air around them. She patted her hair, puffing up like a proud bird.

"And the human is unharmed, too," said Sue. "Nice to know she won't put up a fight."

Brittany's eyes found Santana and paled when she saw the blood streaks on Santana's face. She widened her eyes, asking Santana if everything was okay.

Santana could only swallow. Nothing was okay and nothing would ever be okay.

"Please don't make me do it!" Santana said, falling into hysterics again. "I can bring you another human, just let her go!"

Brittany, foolishly brave, walked over to where Santana was kneeling on the floor, still in Ken's clutches. The Queen shot her an appalled look. Humans didn't walk around the palace freely. But Brittany didn't know that.

"Santana," Brittany whispered, kneeling before her. Santana could smell the alcohol on her breath, but as she sensed her, she could tell Brittany had only had one drink. "Why didn't you tell me you had to come here?"

Santana started sobbing again. "It's because I staked Finn! They want me to..." She trailed off, wishing she could tell Brittany to run for her life and never come in contact with vampires again.

But Brittany wasn't fast enough to not be caught, and Santana couldn't say something subordinate in front of the Queen. So instead she whimpered, "I'm so sorry..."

Brittany gave her a gentle, pitying look. "Sweetheart..." but said nothing more, seeming to understand that not much could be said in front of the Queen without risking her life. But then she said the one thing Santana didn't want her to say. "I've been asking for this for a while. I don't understand why you won't do it."

Santana shuddered when she heard Sue smirk. "I was about to ask her the same thing," Sue said.

Santana shook with silent tears, knowing that Brittany's words were sealing her fate. She wanted to pick her up and run out and live the rest of Brittany's life somewhere in the woods where no one could find them.

"Don't you want to be with your girlfriend forever?" Sue said, daring Santana to say no in front of Brittany.

Santana sniffled, wiping the blood that was now running out of her nose. "I do want to be with her forever," she said, warming at the thought. "But I don't want to turn her. Not because I don't want to see her die..." That was a lie, but one she thought was necessary. "I just... I don't want our relationship to be like that."

Sue studied Santana's face, gauging the sincerity of her plea. She knew Santana was smart, so she was searching for diversions. But when she found none, she gave a slow nod.

"Very well," she said, her voice low and calm. "You don't have to turn her."

Santana got to her feet, overjoyed. She could hardly believe her plea had worked. She was a common vampire, and a young one at that, and she had succeeded in changing a royal's mind.

"Really?" Santana gasped.

Sue's face fell into a scowl. "No," she deadpanned.

Santana's heart crumpled. "_Please_, your highness! I don't want what we have to change!" She turned to Brittany, clutching her hands. "I don't want to be able to order you around! I want things to stay the same!"

Brittany's hand found Santana's cheek and smeared her blood tears away in a gesture of affection. "Sweetie..." Brittany cooed. "I know you wouldn't abuse your power. I would _love_ to have you as my Maker."

Santana whimpered some more and tried to draw air in through her stuffy nose. She needed Brittany to understand all the reasons she wanted Brittany to remain human. But she couldn't say any of them in front of the Queen.

"Well isn't this just fucking adorable," Sue said with obvious distaste. "Never in my thousand years of death have I seen a vampire so stupidly in love with a human."

Santana sighed, closing her eyes and resigning herself to the Queen's decision.

"I'm gonna do you a favor, Lopez," Sue said with a mirthful grin, pointing at Santana and Brittany where they stood holding hands before her. "I'm gonna solve this little problem of who makes who and why. It's been awhile since I've turned someone, and she smells pretty good. I'm sure Quinn won't mind breaking her in once she's turned."

Santana started shaking her head, whole body protesting what the Queen was telling her would happen. "No... No..." she murmured.

"Have your last taste, if you like," the Queen said, gesturing through the air lazily. "But I'm getting a bit nauseous from this disgusting display of affection, and fresh blood keeps the bile down. So hurry up."

Santana turned to Brittany, petrified and ridden with guilt. It was her fault Brittany had to be turned, and she knew she would regret bringing Brittany into her world for the rest of her existence. She would never be able to forgive herself for robbing Brittany of her life.

Santana started crying again, begging Brittany to forgive her someday. But what she found in Brittany's face was peace and warmth. It was the same expression Brittany wore when Santana told her she was beautiful or that she loved her. Brittany looked trusting.

"Are you sure you don't want to do it?" Brittany asked, words quiet and warm.

Santana nodded, feeling even more guilt. Brittany didn't understand what was about to happen to her. She didn't understand most things about Santana's world.

Brittany pursed her lips, looking a little sad. But she murmured, "Okay."

Santana started crying harder. Why wouldn't Brittany put up a fight, or at least try to protest? Why couldn't Brittany act like a normal human girl this once?

"I'm so sorry, Britt," Santana mumbled, words almost indecipherable through her crying.

Brittany tilted her head. "Don't be sorry, Santana. I want this."

Santana swallowed, some of Brittany's calmness flowing through her due to their bond, despite her resistance. She swallowed over and over, trying to think of what she could do to prevent what was about to happen.

For the first time in their relationship, Santana decided she was going to glamour Brittany. She would glamour her and get her to beg for release, offering herself as food to the Queen for the rest of her life in exchange for not being turned.

But Santana knew it wouldn't work. Even if she could glamour Brittany into protesting, the Queen would have none if it.

"Be with me while it happens?" Brittany asked with a timid, calm smile.

Santana shook her head, knowing that watching Brittany writhe in pain for however long it took to drain her was the last thing she wanted to see.

Brittany's face fell. "Please?"

"Don't say no to your sweetheart," Sue said, reminding them their conversation was public.

Seeing Brittany's lip curve into a pout made Santana's resolve crumble. If Brittany wanted her there while she was turned, she would be there. She wanted to savor as much of human Brittany as she could, even if it would remind her of the damage she had done to the one person she loved for the rest of her existence.

Santana swallowed, steeling herself. "Okay," she said.

"Peachy," Sue snarked, rousing from her throne. "Now if you'll follow me to the conversion chamber..."

Santana closed her eyes and clenched her stomach. This was going to be horrible in every way. More horrible than her own death. As Sue dismissed her guards and led Brittany and Santana down a dark, rust colored hall, Santana let go of all hope that she would ever be happy again.

Brittany didn't seem to share her misery though. She waited a few paces for Santana to catch up to her, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together. "It'll be over before you know, and then we can start our forever together," she said, her words low and warm and happy. "And you'll never have to worry about hurting me because I'll be able to fight back." She winked and gave Santana's hand a squeeze.

Santana tried to appreciate Brittany's reassurance, but what Brittany was saying wasn't reassuring in the least. It only proved Brittany had no idea what was going to happen.

"Britt, it's not... it's not easy. It hurts. A lot. And then when you wake up you'll be really hungry and itchy and feel strange in your body..."

Brittany gave her a lighthearted shrug. "That's all temporary."

"But being a vampire isn't!"

"Enough with the dramatic whispering," Sue groaned, halting before a solid wooden door. She produced a large ring of keys and unlocked the door with an antique key. "Step inside."

They entered a room that was filled with deep, red light. The walls were marble up to the moulding, and the ceiling was dark with stars goldplated onto it. Tapestries of deep crimson and purple hung bunched along the walls, and the sole piece of furniture in the room was a marble altar, with a beam of light falling onto it from above.

"Wow," Brittany breathed. "Talk about going in style..."

Santana cringed. Why was Brittany making light of this? This was the most horrifying thing that would ever happen to her and she was commenting on the interior design of the room.

"Because you're young and haven't given me any grief yet, I'll give you a choice," Sue said, as though she were being generous in taking Brittany's life. "Carotid, femoral, or wrist?"

Brittany glanced at Santana for a second before mumbling, "Um... wrist." It seemed the least invasive of her options, and the least intimate. Santana was glad she had chosen wrist.

"Is she allowed to help?" Brittany said.

"Britt, no!" Santana hushed. "I don't want to hurt you!"

Brittany gave her a puzzled frown. "But all the other times you drank from me were okay?"

Sue rolled her eyes again. "Santana, just take a fucking drink and calm down. It's nothing you haven't seen before."

Santana swallowed, not wanting to tell Sue she'd actually never witnessed a transformation. She didn't want to look young or inexperienced, even if she was.

"Britt?" Santana said, turning to Brittany, asking the same location question Sue had asked.

"Carotid," Brittany said. "My favorite."

Santana closed her eyes, resigning herself to participating in Brittany's demise.

"Have at it," Sue said, flicking her hand as she set about lighting a few candles that surrounded the altar.

Santana drew close to Brittany, begging one last time for Brittany to change her mind. But Brittany remained steadfast and warm and calm, and those feelings started to flow through Santana too.

Drawing so close that Sue couldn't hear, Santana whispered into Brittany's ear, "Britt, sweetie," Santana gasped. "I'm so sorry..."

Before Brittany could respond, Santana released her fangs and dug her teeth into Brittany's neck, holding Brittany upright as she swayed on her feet, dizzy with the sensation of Santana feeding. Brittany hummed, but it was a muted version of the groan she usually let out when Santana fed.

Santana drank slowly, trying to savor the last of Brittany's blood she would ever taste. As she did, she started to cry again, blood tears streaking down her face and into Brittany's toga. Brittany sighed over and over, seeming to float up to heaven.

When Santana had drunk enough that she knew Brittany would start to get dizzy, she pulled back and looked Brittany in the eyes. Brittany's eyelids were drooping and she was pale, but she was smiling, a tired, sleepy smile as if she were about to slip into a peaceful dream about the two of them growing old together and dying as mortals, without bloodshed or violence. Santana wept harder still at that face, knowing she wouldn't see it again. She kissed Brittany on the lips, feeling Brittany's pulse, weak through the dry skin of her lips, her breath shallow as she pulled away.

"Love you forever, Britt."

But before Brittany could respond, her eyes closed all the way and she fell backwards, only to be caught by Sue and lifted onto the altar. Without ceremony, Sue lifted Brittany's wrist to her mouth and dug in, teeth savage in comparison to the gentleness of Santana's bites.

Brittany gasped and her eyes flew open, body going stiff with pain. Sue's bite looked like it hurt her more than any of Santana's ever had, and she coughed out a choking noise that made Santana's stomach twist into a permanent knot. Her hand flew to her mouth as she watch Brittany's limbs convulse with pain, her breath halting and choked, seeming to gag on the blood that was now flowing down Sue's throat.

As if she wanted to taunt Santana more, Sue lifted her head with a wicked grin and said, "Oh, she's tasty."

As Sue returned her mouth to Brittany's wrist and Brittany's body jerked again and again, the corners of Santana's vision started to darken. She felt herself growing dizzy and reached out to steady herself against anything nearby. She found nothing. As Brittany's body stilled and her head tipped to the side, Santana fell to the ground, unconscious.


	22. Humanity

A/N: Wow, that last chapter incited some intense responses. Hopefully this one will calm you down.

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**Chapter 22: Humanity**

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Santana rose to consciousness slowly, disoriented, unsure where she was. All she knew was that every muscle in her body felt dry, as though she had been drained of her blood like Brittany had. It felt like dying all over again. Before she opened her eyes, she concentrated on her heart, waiting to see if it was still beating. She didn't know if it would beat after Brittany died. There was so much unknown about vampires, even with the best medical and scientific minds trying to figure it out. The only explanation for their existence seemed to be magic. And now with her new condition, she was even more mystified by her existence.

Her heart gave a weak thud, slow and painful. With her eyes still closed, she tried to sense Brittany, tried to feel her pain or sleep or agony. But she couldn't feel anything. Then she felt a hand on her head, gently stroking her hair back. It wasn't Brittany's hand though. She could tell that. She could feel something move beneath her head

She opened her eyes and was shocked to see Quinn's green eyes looking down at her with more tenderness than she had ever seen as she cradled Santana's head in her lap. They were somewhere inside the palace, though Santana didn't know where.

Santana tried to speak, but found she couldn't because her throat was so dry.

"It's okay, sweetie," Quinn hummed. "You're okay."

Santana couldn't relax until she had news about Brittany. "Britt..." she croaked.

Quinn stroked Santana's hair quietly. "She's still in the ground. She'll wake up in a few hours."

Santana swallowed, unsettled, but bracing herself to be patient. She wanted to be able to bask in Quinn's mysterious gentleness, but she couldn't until she knew Brittany was safe. She rallied her strength and took a deep breath, hoping it would help her wake up. "Did it go well?"

"It was perfect," Quinn cooed. "She went out beautifully."

Santana's heart squeezed, the image of Brittany dying too painful to forget.

"The only thing that didn't go as planned was you passing out. I got here right afterward."

Santana whimpered, closing her eyes again with exhaustion. "It's because of the bond..." she said.

Quinn hummed again, still stroking Santana's hair. Santana hated to admit that she loved it, and given the circumstances, it was the most soothing thing she could imagine besides holding Brittany.

"You two have a very special bond," Quinn commented, her voice still low and sweet like a lullaby.

Santana gave a faint nod, closing her eyes again. She had never felt this tired in her life.

"She brought you back to life."

Santana swallowed, wondering if Quinn knew how true that was.

"Does it feel weird?" Quinn asked.

Santana stalled, not sure what Quinn meant.

"Having a pulse after so long?" Quinn clarified.

Santana felt a chill, but Quinn's gentle hands in her hair and on her shoulder soothed her. Quinn wasn't threatening to expose her as the strange hybrid she'd become.

"At first," Santana admitted. "But after a while it feels good. It reminds me that time is precious."

Quinn nodded and continued studying Santana as she stroked the course strands of her hair out. Santana realized Quinn might have some answers to the questions she had about her strange condition.

"Have you ever heard of that happening before?" Santana asked. She wasn't sure if Quinn was aware that Shelby was still alive, and even if she did know, of Shelby's hybridism.

"A vampire developing a pulse after decades of being dead?"

Santana gave a faint nod.

"No," Quinn said, the word soft like a pillow. "But I also haven't heard of a vampire loving as deeply as you love Brittany."

Santana closed her eyes and tried to hide the smile that graced her lips. Even Quinn could tell how much she loved Brittany. It must be as powerful as it felt, if other people could feel it.

But Santana knew that with her pulse came other possibilities. "Do you think it means I'll die someday?"

Quinn kept stroking Santana's hair, apologetic. "I don't know."

Although Quinn had no helpful information for her, Santana had never felt so soothed by Quinn. Normally they just yelled at each other until Quinn commanded her to do something. This tender openness was new and sudden, yet so genuine. For the first time, Santana felt brave enough to ask something she had wondered for fifty years.

"Quinn?" she asked, taking a breath to give herself courage. Her words were a little slurred, given her exhaustion, but she figured now was her chance to ask, before her alertness brought her inhibitions back. "Why didn't you just let me die on the side of the trail?"

Quinn paused for a long enough that Santana grew worried and opened her eyes to gauge Quinn's expression. But when she did, she saw Quinn smiling peacefully down at her. Quinn's words were smiling as she spoke. "Because I knew how smart and feisty you were."

Santana felt herself warm. It was the first time Quinn had complimented her since she was a newborn.

Quinn continued. "I thought we'd be good friends. I was so lonely."

Santana felt herself sink with guilt. It had never occurred to Santana that Quinn had wanted a friend.

Come to think of it, Santana couldn't name anyone who Quinn might consider a friend. She had loyal patients and colleagues and fangbangers, but no one who would sit with her like this, stroking her hair and telling her everything would be okay. Santana realized she didn't know anyone lonelier than Quinn.

Quinn seemed embarrassed at her admission and started speaking more quickly. "And I figured you'd be an excellent force in the second wave feminist movement. So I had political motivations too."

Santana recalled all the times Quinn had dragged her to marches and town hall meetings and sit-ins. She had complained bitterly, whining about how unfair it was that she wasn't allowed to go to Beatles concerts because there were too many people she might hurt, but she was forced to come to stupid, crowded political meetings. Quinn had pursed her lips and given Santana a disapproving frown, but never answered her. All those times, Quinn had been hoping they could fight for equality as friends. Santana had whined her way through it, dashing Quinn's hopes.

Santana saw Quinn's sadness as she combed through her hair, comforting her in her weakness. And as she did, she realized Quinn needed comforting too. In all her anger and frustration over being turned, blaming Quinn and anyone else in her path for her misfortune, Santana had neglected to see that Quinn was suffering too. Perhaps Quinn's motivation for turning Santana had been selfish, but Santana had done plenty of selfish things. She couldn't blame Quinn for what she'd done. She even realized that, before she met Brittany, if she'd found someone she thought could be a friend lying almost dead, she would probably have turned them too. Loneliness could drive the kindest person to do things they normally wouldn't.

The more Santana thought, the more she realized how gravely she had let Quinn down. Even though she hadn't known what Quinn wanted, she'd been difficult and downright cruel to her. She felt unbearably guilty.

"I'm sorry," Santana mumbled.

Quinn gave her a curious frown. "For what?"

"For not being a good friend. For making your life so hard."

Quinn pursed her lips and looked away. "I was a pretty difficult Maker."

Santana was surprised Quinn would admit to that.

"It's because I have such high standards for myself. But I think I held you to even higher ones."

Again, Santana was surprised, and flattered.

"I should have been a lot gentler with you," Quinn murmured. "Maybe things would have turned out differently."

Santana looked up at Quinn, seeing her in a new light.

"You're a good Maker," Santana said, wanting to reassure her. "Strict, but... I probably deserve it," she said, begrudgingly.

Quinn wrinkled her nose in amusement, trying to lighten the mood. "Only sometimes."

Santana let out a giggle before falling into a peaceful silence. She was so grateful for Quinn in that moment. "Thank you," she said, feeling obligated to let Quinn know her gentleness was appreciated.

"For what?"

"For being here with me right now," Santana mumbled.

Quinn nodded, studying the sheen of Santana's hair.

"I'd do the same for you," Santana said, knowing it wouldn't have been true until today. But everything was changing today.

"Thank you," Quinn said, grateful.

Basking the glow of Quinn's nurturing, Santana felt herself slipping back into sleep. "Wake me up before Brittany gets out?" she mumbled.

"Of course. I wouldn't let you miss it," Quinn murmured. "I'm pretty excited to see her myself. It's been a while since I had a newborn..."

Santana nodded, eyes drooping closed. As she was falling asleep, she had one final question. "Will you be gentle with her?" she asked.

"Of course," Quinn hummed, curling her fingers around Santana's ear. "I think I've learned the importance of being gentle." There was a moment of quiet before Quinn said, "Maybe this time I'll actually have a friend."

Santana ached at the sadness in Quinn's voice. "You have a friend," she said, reaching for Quinn's hand.

Quinn squeezed Santana's hand in gratitude, and Santana fell asleep again.

* * *

Several hours later, Quinn roused Santana by rubbing her back and humming her name.

Santana startled, picking her head off Quinn's lap, looking around.

"Is she up?" Santana asked, her words panicked and anxious.

"Not yet," Quinn said. "She's still got about ten minutes."

Santana collected herself, sitting up and wiping her eyes to get ready for Brittany's reveal.

"There's something I want to talk to you about first," Quinn said, sitting cross-legged and facing Santana directly.

Santana looked at Quinn and realized she looked nervous. Santana couldn't handle any more anxiety at the moment. Brittany was going to emerge from the ground any minute, reborn as a vampire. There was so much unknown, she couldn't tolerate anything unexpected.

But Quinn still looked gentle. She reached forward and took Santana's hands in hers, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "I know I haven't been very encouraging to you. But I want you to know that as a Maker, you have made me so, so proud. We've had our differences, but above all, I respect you."

Santana was unnerved by the sudden shift in Quinn. It seemed both important women in her life were going through a transformation.

"I'll probably regret this sooner rather than later, but..." Quinn said with a sad smile. "You're ready."

Santana frowned, confused by how vague Quinn was being.

Quinn held Santana's gaze for a long moment, her eyes tender and sad. "Santana, as your Maker..." She paused, throat tightening as she forced out the rest of her sentence. "I release you."

Santana was stunned, as though a giant rubber band that was stretched between their bodies had snapped back at her without warning. She blinked, unsure what to do. She hadn't ever expected Quinn to release her.

For a moment, she was frozen, hanging in midair after her foundation was pulled from under her. She was free. No one could order her to do anything she didn't want to. And yet, as she hung there, she felt a pang of sadness.

Santana fell forward onto Quinn, overwhelmed with gratitude and compassion for the woman she had previously despised. She realized that, just like Brittany had said, Quinn still had many human traits. She was flawed and lonely and did things she later regretted. She was nothing like the heartless creature Santana had created in her mind. She squeezed Quinn as hard as she could, summoning strength she thought had been drained from her as she choked out, _Thank you_.

Santana's eyes stung, moved to tears by the power of Quinn's humanity. The task of rebuilding her relationship with Quinn would probably take decades. But somehow, the look Quinn was giving her when she pulled back made her realize it wouldn't take long at all. Miraculous changes could happen overnight.

Furthermore, Quinn added, "I promise to release Brittany as soon as she's ready."

Now Santana was crying uncontrollably, saltwater tears streaking down her face instead of blood.

Quinn gave her arm an affectionate rub. "I bet it won't even take five years. She's fierce."

Santana's whole body was shaking with joy.

"It'll probably take me more than five years to learn how to love like she does though," Quinn said, looking down in deep thought.

Santana let out a scoff of agreement. "No one can love like Brittany."

"It's pretty sickening, isn't it?" Quinn said with a grin that meant she didn't think it was sickening at all.

Santana shuddered and leaned into Quinn again, savoring the peace that had settled between them.

After a moment, Quinn rubbed Santana's back. "Ready to go meet your vampire girlfriend?" she said, trying to energize and steady Santana at the same time.

Santana shuddered again, but nodded as she got to her feet. "I hope she's okay..."

"She's fine," Quinn assured, walking towards the door. "And even more beautiful than you remember."


	23. Moonlight

**A/N: Here it is, guys, the final chapter! When I wrote the first two chapters as a GKM fill for the sexy secret Santa project, I didn't think I'd follow up with another 20 chapters. But it was so fun, and so many people seemed to like it, I'm glad I did.**

**I got a lot of messages and reviews from people who were confused about why Quinn was talking about releasing Brittany, since Sue was the one who made Brittany a vampire. In chapter 21, Sue said that she would release Brittany to Quinn's care as soon as she was turned, thus putting Quinn in charge of Brittany and giving her Maker status. Easy to forget after a few days, so it's understandable that people were confused.**

**Enjoy!**

**Oh! And be sure to read my new story "Wherever the Dandelion Falls"!**

* * *

Chapter 23: Moonlight

* * *

Quinn led Santana down a strange corridor that was lined with emerald and royal purple tapestries. Santana took in her surroundings, feeling as though she was in a medieval castle. Considering Sue was a dozen centuries old, Santana supposed the Queen had chosen her favorite decorative era and furnished her castle accordingly.

As they turned up a different corridor, it occurred to Santana that Quinn seemed to know where she was going.

"Have you been here before?" Santana whispered.

Quinn gave her a solemn nod.

"When?"

"Often enough," Quinn whispered.

Santana chilled at that. How had she not known that Quinn was close to the Queen? What if Quinn was part of some plot to do harm to Brittany's family? Santana grew more anxious still at the realization that Quinn would become Brittany's Maker the second the Queen turned her over. Although she knew Quinn was genuine in her remorse for the way she'd raised Santana, Santana couldn't help but be suspicious now. What if things were only going to get worse? What if she and Brittany were pawns in a setup that would only yield pain and bloodshed and agony?

"Are you and Queen Sylvester... close?" Santana asked, swallowing.

Quinn looked straight ahead, a fatigued smile gracing her face. "No," she said. "But she gets bored. Sometimes she likes to hear my political opinions."

"Political opinions?"

Santana wasn't comforted by Quinn bringing up politics.

"She finds my pacifist leanings humorous. Thinks I'm foolish. If she didn't respect my medical practice, she'd have nothing to do with me. But she says they balance each other out, so she keeps me around."

"Pacifist leanings?" Santana asked. She felt like an echo chamber for Quinn's words and the pounding of her aching heart.

Quinn stopped at the corner of a hallway. "Surely you know," Quinn said. "I don't wish humans any harm. I _like_ humans."

Santana swallowed again, her throat still aching as she felt still more foolish for not realizing that Quinn was a pacifist. An integrationist, even.

"Brittany is a gift to me," Quinn shrugged. "For healing Sue's niece when she got bludgeoned by a troll last year." Quinn started walking again, then said in a low voice, "And probably because you staked Finn. She was never fond of him."

"Neither were you," Santana pointed out.

Quinn shrugged, an uncharacteristically muted reaction to talking about Finn. Santana supposed Quinn was trying to be respectful of the recently departed Sheriff of their district.

"He was an asshat," Santana said, trying to bait Quinn in launching into a full-fledged rant about what an incompetent moron he was.

Quinn pursed her lips. "Now that neither of us have a Maker, we don't have to worry about people dragging us into their politics. You especially."

Santana frowned. "What do you mean?"

Quinn looked surprised. "You know I would never put you or Brittany in any kind of danger, right? I wouldn't have demanded you report back to me about her family unless I had been commanded to."

Santana's feet slowed, realizing, as if for the first time, that Quinn had often been commanded to do things she didn't want to do too. Finn had used Quinn as a tool in his political vendettas in a way that was far more sinister than the pithy tasks Quinn had demanded of Santana. She felt even more pity and compassion for Quinn. It had never occurred to her that there were times when Quinn felt as powerless as she usually did.

Quinn slowed too and looked at Santana, raising her eyebrows. Santana realized she hadn't responded to what Quinn had said, and shook her head to clear it. "Yeah," she said. "Of course. Of course you wouldn't."

At that reassurance, Quinn reached out and took Santana's hand. She squeezed it and continued down the hall. A playful smile crossed her face as she swung their hands together said, "I would never willingly put one of my babies in danger."

Santana gave her a wincing laugh, all too nervous about how Quinn's newest "baby" was faring.

"If I could, I would end this war between vampires and humans for good. But..." She sighed. "I don't have any political clout." She sounded sad, as though she had once aspired to be powerful like Sue or Finn.

Santana nodded, willing her aching legs to keep up with Quinn. She felt slower than usual. "You could, you know," she said.

Quinn pursed her lips again, then tried to shrug the idea off. But Santana wasn't convinced.

"I'm a doctor," Quinn sighed. "Medicine is my thing, not politics."

Santana saw the way Quinn was pushing her feelings aside with rational excuses. "You probably have time to explore other careers, you know," she said, as though it was funny.

Eternal life meant they both had infinite time to explore careers that appealed to them. Santana knew her time for being retired was coming to a close soon. As far as she knew, Quinn had never retired. She'd been a doctor forever. Santana made a note to ask her about how medicine had grown and changed over the past eighty years sometime.

Quinn's brow crinkled for a moment, as though the idea of switching careers had never occurred to her. "I suppose I could," she said, intrigued.

Their conversation was brought to a halt when Quinn stopped before a large marble arch at the end of the hall. At the top of the arch the words _Hall of Eternal Life_ loomed overhead, taunting Santana. She knew it wasn't really eternal life. It was eternal existence or eternal death. Life was pulsing and glowing and fragile. Vampires were anything but.

But then she stopped to consider. Were vampires really indestructible? Not physically. They could be burned by silver the same way humans were by fire. They could catch diseases and hold grudges. They could be terminated by a simple piece of wood. They could even, Santana had discovered, _feel_. Her hybridism wasn't to blame. After all, Quinn was completely dead, her organs still for almost a hundred years. And yet Quinn had feelings. She felt loneliness and hunger and hurt. She felt pride and she felt shame and she felt inspired. Quinn had as many feelings as Santana did, they were just cased differently. Santana supposed that casing didn't matter so much. After all, she would love Brittany no matter what she was made of or how her organs worked. She would love her simply because of her heart, beating or still. There was an essence to Brittany that Santana prayed hadn't been sucked away.

Eager to see that Brittany was unharmed, Santana reached for the door handle. But Quinn moved her hand away gently. In days past, Quinn would have swatted it away with a disapproving glare. But Quinn was gentle now.

"We wait for them," she murmured.

Santana swallowed and studied the door, as though if she looked hard enough, she would be able to see through it.

Quinn reached into a small faux leather shoulder bag Santana hadn't noticed she'd been carrying. She pulled out a canteen and held it in her hands, worrying the cap with her fingers.

"What's that? Santana asked, nodding towards the canteen.

"Blood. Brittany's going to be thirsty."

Santana felt foolish for not anticipating Quinn's response. Quinn was thorough in everything she did. Of course she would bring blood for her newborn.

"You can't smell it?" Quinn whispered.

Santana shook her head, feeling ashamed. "Sometimes my senses are dulled. It's part of the bond."

Quinn gave her a slow nod. "You're slower too," she said, and Santana detected a hint of amusement in her words. Santana stiffened at that, and Quinn backed down. "Only physically. Your mind is still lightening-quick."

Santana gave a quick nod of forgiveness and refocused on the door. She couldn't concentrate for long on anything, though. Not when she was minutes away from seeing her girlfriend reborn dead.

It was eerily quiet around the palace. Santana was glad she had the power to still her heart, otherwise it would have been pounding loud enough to attract the attention of every vampire on the premises.

After what felt like an hour, Santana heard footsteps behind the door. One pair was stately and measured, the other spritely and curious, darting towards them with determined, graceful force. Santana heard a latch click and the door before them swung open, revealing Brittany, radiant as ever.

She was paler, but she didn't look sickly. Instead she held a hint of the moon's glow, which shone in the blueness of her eyes and the cool blonde of her hair. Her eyes locked on Santana before her dry, pink lips spread in a smile that was both playful and predatory. Santana was frozen to the ground as Brittany darted forward, flinging the door all the way open and her arms around Santana's neck.

Santana felt the air knocked out of her still lungs at the force of Brittany's embrace. She had thought of hundreds of things she wanted to say to Brittany, but was so overwhelmed with gratitude that Brittany was okay, she couldn't speak. As she could do was wrap her arms around her and feel how solid and lively she was. She held her there for a full minute in grateful silence as she heard Queen Sylvester mutter to Quinn, "She's all yours, Fabray. I release her to you. Good _luck_." The Queen seemed alarmed and frustrated by something as she swiftly walked away, but Santana didn't care what it was. She just held Brittany, smelling her hair and skin and a new scent that coursed through her veins. There was something powerful to the scent, but still maintained Brittany's usual bouquet of comfort and allure. Santana was relieved to discover that her body didn't react any different to Brittany now that Brittany was immortal. She was still warmer and calmer as she pressed against her, as though cloaked in something that could shield her from the harshness of the rest of the world. Santana had previously thought that cloak was Brittany's humanity, and was elated to discover it wasn't. It must have been Brittany's essence.

When Brittany moved to pull back, Santana tightened her grasp, not ready to let go. But Brittany was so strong, Santana was pried off her and found herself captivated by Brittany's moonlit eyes for a moment before Brittany kissed her. Her lips were determined and hungry, and just as Santana slid her lip up between Brittany's, she felt something sharp pierce it. Her eyebrows jumped up and she squeaked, but Brittany's lips smiled against Santana's as Santana's blood started pooling in her mouth. Santana was frozen, unsure how she felt about Brittany biting her before they'd even said a word to each other. But as Brittany began to suck, Santana felt herself tingling as warmth centered between her legs. She hummed as her knees slackened, and Brittany's sucking grew more intent.

Santana was startled by Quinn quietly clearing her throat next to them. Santana opened her eyes and was relieved when Brittany let go of her lips and took a small step back.

"Hi," Brittany murmured to Santana, wrinkling her nose as she nuzzled Santana's affectionately.

"Hi," Santana managed, licking her bottom lip to wipe up some of the blood.

Brittany smiled at her for a moment before turning to look at Quinn. "Hi," she said, lifting her hand from behind Santana's neck to wave.

"Hi," Quinn said. "It's good to see everything went well."

Brittany gave a happy nod. "Everything went perfect," she said. "But god, am I _itchy_!" She wriggled her shoulders and stomach, and Santana took a moment to scan Brittany's body for where the discomfort lay. She found it was the same itch she had experienced as a newborn. It didn't lie under skin, but rather in her muscles and stomach and chest. It felt insatiable, and she tensed as Brittany's itch seeped into her.

Quinn gave her a gentle smile. "Yeah, that happens. It'll go away quickly if you drink this, though." She held up the canteen of blood and Brittany's eyes went wide with hunger.

"That smells _so good_," she said, breaking away from Santana to grab the canteen with both hands. She lifted it to her lips and started chugging the contents, her eyes and limbs relaxing with every gulp. When she was done, she let out a satisfied _ahhh_ and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing blood across her chin. "Got any more?" she asked anxiously.

Quinn smiled at her and shook her head. "Not with me. But it's easy to get. O positive is the most common blood type in the world."

"Thank god," Brittany gasped, tipping the canteen up again to catch any leftover drops in her mouth. "It's _so_ delicious. I could eat that every day."

Behind her, Santana was grinning like a fool, and Quinn was smiling back at her.

"I'm O positive," Santana said with a shy smile.

Brittany turned around and her smile only grew as she met Santana's. "Figures," she giggled. Then her eyes went dark and she stalked towards Santana, staring intently at Santana's neck. For the first time, Santana was wary around Brittany. She could feel how jumpy and unpredictable Brittany was, and didn't want to be the target of any force Brittany hadn't learned to control yet.

"Easy, Brittany," Quinn said, her words warm but warning. "Don't drink from Santana when you're hungry. I command you not to."

Brittany's body froze and her face fell. She turned around to look at Quinn as her lip quivered with sadness. "Ever?" she asked, her voice small and pitiful, as though she had just been told she could never eat cupcakes again. Which, of course, she couldn't, but she hadn't realized that yet.

Quinn gave her an apologetic smile and walked toward her, putting her hand on her shoulder. "Some day. Probably sooner than you expect. But I want to make sure both of you are safe, especially since you're living together. I want that house to be happy and healthy for centuries to come, understand? No drinking from Santana when you're hungry."

Brittany nodded obediently, though Santana could tell she was disappointed. After all, she'd wanted to taste Santana's blood before they even spoke about Brittany's transformation.

Quinn continued. "I also command you not to drink directly from humans for the time being. You'll eat the same way Santana does."

Brittany tilted her head, brow creasing. Santana could tell Brittany didn't like being restricted, since her immortal freedom was so new. But she nodded again.

"Am I allowed to stay at our house?" she asked, reaching back for Santana's hand.

"Of course," Quinn said, relieved to give her newborn good news. "You're an adult. I'm just going to help you learn to manage your hunger and strength until you're ready to be released. Whatever else you choose to do with yourself is up to you."

Brittany nodded and bit her lip, and immediately winced when she accidentally bit into it with one of her fangs. Quinn gave her an adoring smile as Brittany raised her hand to her mouth, touching the blood and wrinkling her nose. "I didn't mean to do that," she mumbled. "I guess I have some stuff to get used to."

Quinn rubbed her shoulder again and said quietly, "You have plenty of time. I'll help you."

Brittany gave her a thankful nod and looked back at Santana. "Can we go get some blood? I'm so thirsty."

Santana nodded and laced her fingers between Brittany's. "Of course. I have plenty of O positive at home." Brittany quirked an eyebrow and Santana amended what she's said with, "_Human_ O positive."

Brittany's playfulness faded and she looked back at Quinn. "Am I free to go?" she asked, hopeful.

"Yeah," Quinn said. "Call me if you're still uncomfortable in a few hours. I have a few tricks." She gave Brittany a kind wink and turned around, glancing behind her at Santana and Brittany only once. As she walked away, Santana was again dumbfounded by Quinn's kindness. Quinn was already following through on her promise to be a gentler Maker to Brittany.

Brittany, on the other hand, was too excited to notice the shift between Santana and Quinn. "Ready?" she asked, bouncing on her heels.

Santana flipped her attention back to Brittany and nodded.

"Good," Brittany chirped, taking Santana's hand and yanking her down the hall in the opposite direction of Quinn.

"Where are we going?" Santana asked, feeling out of breath as she tried to keep up with Brittany's speed that was fueled by newborn hunger and her usual curiosity.

"Home!" Brittany grinned.

Santana struggled to keep up for a few more turns through the palace halls before she asked, "Do you even know where you're going?"

Brittany nodded and said, "The exit is this way!"

"How do you know?"

Brittany shrugged and called back, "I just do!"

Santana was doubtful until she realized they had arrived in the entryway of the palace. There, Brittany slowed to a walk and bowed her head to the guards that flanked the door. "Have a nice night," she said, as though she left the palace like this every night. Santana followed quietly and relished the coolness of the water on either side of the walkway that resembled a modern-day drawbridge. She remained a few paces back from Brittany, linked by her hand. When they crossed the walkway and were standing in the almost-deserted parking lot, Brittany turned around and smiled wickedly at Santana. "Want to see a trick?" she asked.

Santana grew cautious. She didn't want Brittany testing her new powers without knowing their limits. "Maybe we should wait until you can practice with Quinn," she said, trying not to dampen Brittany's enthusiasm too harshly.

Brittany shook her head. "I can't practice with Quinn. She doesn't know how."

Santana grew more worried. "Britt, what are you talking-"

"Just hold my hands," Brittany said, gripping Santana's firmly. "Don't let go."

Santana stuttered, "I- I won't, but Britt, what are you-"

Her words were cut off by a shriek as Brittany propelled them straight up into the cold night air, blasting towards the moon until they were fifty yards above the palace.

Santana's feet scrambled to find something to stand on, but found nothing besides Brittany's ankles to knock against.

"_Put me down!_" Santana shrieked. "Holy shit, _put me down!_"

Brittany's playful smile fell when she saw how scared Santana was. She doubled her grip on Santana's hands and they plummeted toward the earth, earning another terrified scream from Santana during their freefall. When they were ten yards above the ground, Brittany slowed, landing them with only a small jolt.

"Jesus Christ, Brittany, _never_ do that again!" Santana panted, yanking her hands away from Brittany's and covering her face, which was white as a sheet.

"I'm sorry," Brittany cooed, reaching forward to comfort Santana. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to show off my new skills."

"Yeah," Santana gasped, "Those are some intense skills..." She panted for a few more seconds before she said, "You gotta warn me before you try stuff like that, okay?"

"Okay. I'm sorry," Brittany said, looking sheepish.

Santana took a deep breath and straightened up, then looked Brittany in the eye. Brittany looked so concerned and embarrassed, she wanted to comfort her. "It is pretty cool though," Santana said. "I don't know many vamps who can fly."

Brittany's smile turned smug and Santana looked at her with sudden curiosity.

"How did you know you could do that?" Santana asked.

Brittany shrugged. "I just knew," she said. "The same way you know how to release and retract your fangs. Which... I haven't learned how to do yet," she said, moonlight glinting off the pointy tips that were visible through her lips.

"You'll learn quickly," Santana assured her. "Quinn is a good teacher. As long as you actually pay attention," she said, remembering how often she'd shirked her lessons.

"I will," Brittany said, as though she were eager to start her vampire lessons. "Do you think if I show her what a good student I am, she can help me get into veterinary school?"

Santana's heart gave a pleasant squeeze at how unchanged Brittany was. She was almost indistinguishable from her human self. Aside from her newfound bloodthirst, speed, and powers of flight, of course.

"Probably," Santana said. "She has lots of connections to important people in medicine. And now that you're a vampire, you could go to supernatural veterinary school and learn to take care of magical _and_ non-magical creatures."

Brittany's eyes widened in delight and she let out a squeal of excitement. "That's so awesome!"

Santana giggled, heart fluttering with joy. She hadn't imagined that Brittany being a vampire would be so delightful.

"I want to try again," Brittany said, reaching for Santana's hands. "But - I'll go slow, I promise. No more than ten feet in the air."

Santana held her hands back, cautious to let Brittany fling her into the air again. "No more than ten feet?" she echoed.

"Promise," Brittany said.

Anxiously, Santana let Brittany take her hands.

This time, Santana hardly noticed her feet leaving the ground. Apart from the light breeze that was already playing in her hair, she felt no difference between standing and flying. As they lifted gracefully into the air, Santana relaxed. Brittany was already proving that she could master her powers quickly.

When they were ten feet up, Brittany said, "Better?"

"Much," Santana said. "It helps when I know what's coming."

Brittany lifted Santana's hands one at a time to her lips and kissed them. "Can I take you home now?" she asked, voice tender and warm.

Santana nodded, faltering for just a moment as Brittany let go of one of her hands. But Brittany held firm to the other as she slowly leaned to the side, until their bodies were almost parallel to the ground.

Then, like a car slowly accelerating, Brittany moved them in the direction of their house. She didn't go too fast, and Santana was fascinated as she watched the ground move below them.

"Can I go a little higher so it's easier to avoid traffic lights and buildings?" Brittany asked.

"Yeah," Santana breathed, still entranced by her first experience of flight.

Brittany angled up, and they rose another fifteen yards, giving them a comfortable distance from the ground. She didn't pick up speed, just continued steering them gracefully toward their house. Santana marvelled at the way the town looked from this angle. She could see the layout of the streets and patterns of lights, but also the details of the buildings and cars and people below. She knew that flying with Brittany was going to be one of her favorite things, once she got used to it.

When they drew close to the wealthy part of town, Santana spotted the Pierce house. She grew sad, knowing Brittany could never return there.

"What are you going to do about your parents, Britt?" Santana asked in a hushed, sad voice.

Brittany was quiet for a moment as air rushed around them, tangling their hair and drying their eyes. Santana felt a pit of sadness start to form in her stomach.

"I'm not sure," she said. "I don't want to cut them off completely. I can keep doing phone and email. It's not like they're home very often to see me in person anyway..."

Santana felt the urge to comfort Brittany. She knew that losing her family was the one part of being a vampire that Brittany didn't like.

"Maybe this war won't last forever," Santana said. "Quinn was saying she might go into politics. She's an integrationist, you know."

"I know," Brittany said, as though it was common knowledge.

"You do?" Santana asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Brittany shrugged. "I wouldn't have asked her to help us that time she glamoured me if I hadn't known."

"Oh..." Santana said, feeling foolish. How had she not known Quinn was an integrationist until tonight?

"I'll figure it out," Brittany said. "I have time. And most importantly, I have you," she said, tugging on Santana's hand.

Santana took the hint and let the subject go for the time being. Brittany was right. They had time to figure out what to do about Brittany's family.

As they drew nearer to their house, Brittany rose higher to avoid being hit by trees. She picked up speed, though not too quickly for Santana's liking, and they soared closer to home. Santana remembered the dreams she had had about flying over the forest with Brittany. In the dreams, she had been as relieved and happy as she felt now.

When at last they saw the roof of their house, Brittany slowed and lowered their ankles as she descended, until they landed gracefully on the front porch.

"Looks like we'll be saving money on gas," Santana said, winking at Brittany. "You're pretty good at that."

Brittany gave her a look that would have been accompanied by a blush, if blood had been moving through her veins. "Just show me where the O positive is."

Santana went to the refrigerator and took out three bags of O positive. She heated them and served two to Brittany, drinking the remaining one herself. Brittany drank voraciously, and when she was finished, Santana felt the last hints of itchiness leave her chest and muscles. Brittany was calm now.

Brittany looked at Santana across the table, unaware of the small trickle of blood that had seeped down her chin.

"Hey, are you still a hybrid?" Brittany asked, as though it had just occurred to her that Santana might have changed when she did.

Santana nodded. She had felt her heart beat and her lungs ache for air since Brittany's heart and lungs had stopped. But now it occurred to Santana that her hybridism wasn't a result of her stealing life force from Brittany. It could only be a result of learning to love the way a human could. And although Brittany's heart no longer beat, Santana knew, the same way Brittany had known she could fly, that it would again. Brittany's heart would beat someday soon, and they would live the rest of their existence together, straddling both the human and vampire worlds.

"Are you gonna miss me being human?" Brittany asked.

Santana wrinkled her nose playfully, thinking about how she wouldn't be able to overpower Brittany in a playful way or impress her with her strength and speed. "A little bit. But... I have a feeling you're going to be a pretty badass vampire."

Brittany's face broke into a grin. "We are so lucky."

Santana tilted her head with a curious look. "Why?"

Brittany stood up and knelt next to Santana, giving her a soft kiss on the lips before drawing back and staring deep into her eyes. "Because we get to spend forever falling in love with each other over and over again."

* * *

The End.


End file.
